Robert Ives is fond of talking about 'new bike wood', implying of course that when one gets a new bike a certain arousal occurs. The wonderful thing about new bike wood is that its not gender specific as I know many women who experience new bike wood as well. And beyond that, you can even share someone elses. As of right now, I have plenty to go around.
Now then- last night, for no particular reason, The Skipper, Young Hightower and I all proceeded to tie one on.
Maybe it was because it was Monday,..maybe it was because we made it through another day, or maybe it was because the end of the month is a soul crushing time around these parts and we were just glad to have accomplished such a great job.
You know, perhaps it was a little bit of all of these things, cause when I woke up on Tuesday morning asking the girl why my pants were in the laundry hamper, in the living room with my belt, wallet, and keys all still attached, she answered flatly, "because last night you smelled like poo... or feet.."
Shes a lucky lady, that one is.
As I just mentioned on The Guy Wire®, Ive been listening to The Melvins 'The Crybaby' CD again recently. Its a pretty brilliant concept album on which The Melvins play the music of other artists, with specific guests on vocals. For example, they do The Jesus Lizards 'Blockbuster' with David Yow on Vocals, or Hank 1s 'Ramblin Man' and 'Okie From Muskogee' with Hank 3 doing vocals. Well I think the most brilliant cut is their cover of 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' with Leif Garrett on vocals.
Leifs not looking so good these days though.
Kids, remember... drugs are bad, mmkay?
At some point on Tuesday, The Skipper asked me if Id heard about the craziness going on over in Austria with the freakshow that kept his daughter and the children theyd had together locked in his basement, which I had not. He immediately brought it up on the computer, and as I was reading about the horror he muttered in my ear, "thats what happens to you if you wear a moustache for too long."
Its guys like that that give the moustache a bad rap, and Im now counting the days until I can remove mine and deposit it in the trash.
Or include it in someones order.
However, then I get an email from Steve that begins to make all things upper lip related alright again;
"I submit to you, this dashing young man avoiding the bummer life during this weekend's running of TransIowa v4. Note the well groomed 'stache along with his obvious good taste in clothing. This was at mile 102 of 340. His spirit and will were crushed somewhere between here and mile 200, however, I'm sure he enjoyed himself.
Just when I though all was lost.. Man, Im glad that feeling passed.
Matt, who is the captain of The Ghostship wrote to us and gave us the skinny on the recent Hustle and Flow competition, and seeing as hes got the full rundown on his site, and Im really tired of being in front of a computer, Im just going to redirect you over there to get the lowdown. While youre on his site, why dont you do yourself a favor and pick yourself up a little something?
Wakeman, along with about a thousand other people have emailed us about The Fluids reunion shows that are coming up. Its good to know folks have my back, and believe me, if theres one person on this planet who should be in attendance, its me. I toyed with the idea of picking up a ticket to Denver for the (soul) purpose of getting my rock on, but as I was perusing the web for flights, I got a call from the shop that built the transmission for my truck letting me know that it was ready. Two thousand dollars later (which ironically is what I paid the aforementioned Robert Ives for the truck nine years ago) my wallet is understandably lighter, and a ticket to Denver wafted away from me like so much smoke on the water.
So, that being said, if youre anywhere near Denver and youve got a thing for the rock and/or roll, you MUST go to see this show.
Early Saturday morning I found an email from Chris at Circle A Cycles in my inbox. It was like Christmas, but since I dont particularly care for Christmas, it actually was quite a bit better.
Go ahead.. drink it all in. I dare you.
Would you believe all he wanted in return was a wool jersey?
No- I kid... Ill be missing meals for months to pay this thing off, but the distended stomach is a look thats all the rage in Milan and Paris right now, so Im good.
Did everybody have a good weekend? I did. An old school, chum of Complaynas rolled though town by the name of Kimberly. Blacksocks and myself hooked up with them and we went on a bike ride.
Despite the fact that the night before Kimberly was, as my parents say, 'over served' she held it down, one gear and all. A true one speeder, through and through.
I also got involved in cutting out a few little tables with candles and other what nots on them.
My therapists all agree that its good for me.
Except for that one guy, and all of the rest think hes a quack, so who am I to argue?
Aside from that, I spent a bit of time preparing for the arrival of my new brown and blue baby. You know that bumper sticker that states 'everyone should have one house before anyone has two'?
I need to get one that says 'everyone should have one pair of Caramba Double Barrel cranks before anyone has two.
Im a whore for those things.
As per our discussion about riding down Mount Tam on crazy contraptions, Intern A sent this website on. I guess it really should come as no surprise that it resides in Minneapolis.
They love their bikes there, and they love their hootch, so really why not combine the two? Its forward thinking like that that makes the world go 'round.
CFO wrote in to let us know the apple really doesnt fall very far from the tree;
"My nephew got booted from pre-school because:
In music class he:
1) Punched Raheem
2) Bit Michael Reed
3) Punched Michael Reed
4) Turned class into what my bro described as a "prison riot"...
He lays down huge skids on his SE though so he should be fine.
CFO"
At one point in art class when I was just a wee lad, I took a swing at this kid named Jason with a pencil sharpener canister thing, which resulted in him getting his lights turned off and the teacher dragging both of us out of the room by the shoe laces amid a full blown class wide melt down, and look at how I turned out..
Im sure your nephew will have a very bright future ahead of him.
He also sent this on;
"When I die...Which by recent indications should be very soon, I want you to keep the attached picture of me beating Taylor Phinney's ass in a vault, lock box or false bottomed Budweiser...Thanks
CFO"
I replied with the observation that when Im getting lapped, I always like to think of it like for that brief moment, I too am in the lead.
I dont think he cared for that too much.
Last weeks hotdog hill climb winner Oz forwarded this next bit on to me, which we think youll find if pretty funny. Go here and then click on the North bound arrow once to see a classic example of 'just riding along' syndrome.
Those sidewalks will jump out and get you any chance they get.
Richie Redhot of 'MASH SF' fame wrote in to let us know that hes not just another pretty face...
God.. At least I hope hes more than a pretty face.. That mugs enough to make a freight train take a dirt road..
Anyhoo, Richie writes;
"hey stevil,
i just got my website up and wanted to let you know about it. it showcases some of my past builds and i am selling mash dvd's and raffle tickets for one of my frames. check it out.
i was rocking my swobo t-shirt and socks in l.a. this past weekend for the velocity block party, i hope you get some grity urban rider press from it...haha. i am going to put a links page on my site soon and want to include swobo/htatbl, is that cool?
word to mama bird,
richie ditta
p.s. i just found my green swobo shorts packed away with some old messenger gear. i will get the full swobo "poster child" shot and send it soon."
Yes of course it would be alright if you linked us. We need all of the help we can get, and it should go without saying that youll be receiving the standard 15% of all annual earnings link cut that we give to everyone that gives us some props on the interweb.
And now on to upcoming events. I plugged this one a while back, but it looks like its just around the corner so Ill put it up again.
Plus its just so damn sexy looking.
That flyers so handsome it makes me feel ugly just looking at it.
Uglier than usual, I mean.
Heres a clip that I nicked from the C-R-C, dontchaknow?
Now for the results in the JMac shpantz competetion.. As usual, you all stunned, shocked, and awed me with your deftness of vision regarding this query.
Pento nailed it immediately, but on further inspection, I realized I had in fact given him the answer many months ago.
That being said, it was the one known as 'sinn fein' who knocked it the hell out of the park with this answer;
"I'll go with Bill Stevenson, but while in All.
Got an A- in college statistics in 1986 and think that this problem is a 'conditional probablity' one - but can only guess as to how to actually solve it 22 years later. Probablity of A is 1/18 and probablity of B is 1/5 (18x5 = 90) - so probability of any one of those folks in that bed while in certain band is 1 in 90?????? Or something like that.."
Seriously, I really dont give this audience enough credit. Here I was thinking that Id caused havoc with this impossibility of a quiz. Maybe something akin to "who had a regularly occurring cameo in the first nightmares I remember ever having?" Id sit back, feeling pretty smug, knowing there was no way anyone could possibly get that one, and within five minutes of posting it, the first four of you wiseacres would comment "Mr. Rogers".
WOULD YOU PEOPLE PLEASE GET OUT OF MY HEAD?!
Anyhow, would Sinn Fein please step up to the mike and claim your prize?
Rest assured though folks, Im going to hit the books, and come up with something none of you all, and I mean NONE are gonna get.
Im like the house in Vegas...
I dont like being beat.
Rolo was getting his weekly Jerry fill on Haight St. this weekend, when he stumbled upon this Courvoisier Sanchez in the window of TRUE . Mista Busta Rymes must have known...
A whole pile of stuff that has nothing to do with anything.
As youve come to expect from The Bummer Life, more often than not, I just end up digging my proverbial shovel into the info box,and spread the contents around this forum like so much manure. Todays not going to be any different.
Inspired by random finds on the treasure trove that is the internet, El Corpo shows off one of the new designs from the womens line that we will be debuting to the American public at Interbike this Fall.
I think well have some ladies shpantz as well, but who really cares when you could have a masturbating-kitten-killing-monster-sweater?
And in an email from Nick, he sent a shot proving that cars might actually be coffins after all.
Todd just put the Fixed Fight event on down there in Florida, which we were fortunate enough to help sponsor.
He wrote in to say thanks for the help- (I responded and said that he was among the first to ever write back offering appreciation, and to tell his mom that she did a wonderful job raising him.)
He also included several links to photo pools and what not, and if youd like to see what they do down in Florida besides fight dogs and rig elections, then click here
Ashley sent this video on. It pretty much rules.
Now you all Im sure are familiar with Chick Tracts...
They are those goofball fanatical comic books that illustrate how perversions like homosexuality, or the use of drugs and alcohol will inevitably lead you straight to Hell.
Daniel K. Raeburn even chronicled every Chick Tract available, complete with a glossary of terms in his seminal 'The Imp?'
Well, the bicycle world has their own Jack T. Chick in Chief Potawatomi, who publishes Velo Tracts, straight outta Hell Michigan.
Send him some mail, cause its the only time youll ever get to write to P.O. Box 666.
Do it now, and do it often.
And like DPow! says.. At least well always have this.
So in our on going attempt at helping out our own, I got this kindof random email from John;
"Hey I'm summoning your resources with the bummer life blog to help me get a job. All I have to do to get the job is to get as many people as possible to text 'JohnW' to the number: 28546 and then I guess the job is mine. Its a promotions job where I guess all I have to do is drive around and act retarded. Really everything I say is the truth. So if there is anyway possible that could happen I would be forever in debt to your mustached greatness.
Thanks
John"
I dont know how to text, nor have I used the cell phone I got for the trade show since October, but I bet you all do, and would like to take a second to help the brother out.
I mean jeez.. He gets to drive around and act retarded, and really, isnt that all any of us strive for?
So there you go John. Good luck, and when the money starts rolling in, Ill expect my cut promptly.
In an attempt to avoid a bummer life, Ill now put this video up of a fellow who got stuck, literally, right in the middle of one....
Big time...
The whole insane saga behind this clip is right here.
"Hey there Stevil,
In order to avoid the bummerlife at all costs, we put a posse together an went to Philly this past weekend to get some fresh ink @ the Philly Tattoo Convention. My man Shawn Hebrank (Shawn Hebrank (dot)com put this together for me. After 6 hrs of straight pokey-pokey, I have this rad thigh piece. Thought you might dig it. Talk soon.
Matt"
I told Matt that while that new piece he has is pretty sweet, it would have been alot more so had it included a moustache.
Heres something for the folks that have a soft spot for Black Flag from 'Damaged' to 'Whos Got The 10 (and a half') that our friend Joe sent on to us...
Just look at Bryan, Keith and Robo keeping it real the whole time while everybody else went flip floppy, willy nilly with their personal presentation...
If you want to really nerd out on this, just go here.
Ok, now for the humdinger of a trivia quiz that Id mentioned was on the horizon.
If you can name the individual depicted in this graphic who has slept in my spare bed, and tell me the name of the band that he or she was playing in at the time, youll win yourself a pair of genuine JMac® shpantz.
If you really dazzle me and go the extra mile like Darcy did on the Roman numeral quiz, then Ill even go so far as to get JMac himself to sign the damn things if you wish.
I mean really, youve got a one in eighteen chance of winning, so why not take a stab?
Well, actually its way higher than one in eighteen if you assume each individual was in roughly five bands a piece.. If you can figure the odds on top of providing the answer then Ill throw in a sticker or something as well.
I was hoping to get a Wednesday night ride report, but so far.. nada.
I heard there was a mountain lion on the scene, so thats something.
I went to my very favorite osteopath Thursday morning, and apparently I twisted one of the vertebrae in my neck, which is what was causing all of the anguish, so for now, Im back on my game, and will be in the mix next week showing the kids whats what, and making that mountain lion snuggle with me.
For the weekend though, remember this;
We love almost each and every one of you all..
Um.. not you with the striped shirt though....
..and definately not you.. over there... with the backwards visor..
Now that I kind of have my wits about me, Id begin to sort out the Sea Otter weekend a little more clearly for you all, but looking back on the report from Monday, there really isnt a whole lot that was left out, so in light of my ace reporting skills, Ill just put up the picture of the S.S. Moonbounce sinking to its dusty grave again cause its so sweet.
I found out that some random bike shop in Florida is supremely bummed out by the Bummer Life.... No specific reasons were given. I only know "Bikes!? Beer!?...I just dont get it."
True enough. They dont.
Secondly Mike and Chris D. spent some time in the booth with us on Saturday. At some point we started talking about the ghost town that was the Rock Racing truck, and that we should go over and hassle them. Chris mentioned that they had the 'HERE TO STAY' shirts for sale, which I had to see for myself, but like the shy-girl-getting-on-stage-to-karaoke that I am, I made them escort me to the truck to see for myself. I asked one of the minions if I could buy a shirt, to which she responded, "you want to get a little slice of history, huh?" and I turned to the young woman standing next to her and said "not really, but its just that this thing is going to be worth sooo much money in a year."
The one I was speaking to smirked, and the one who was selling did not. I pointed at the smirker and said "...Yeah.. She gets it", grabbed my shirt and walked away.
We later joked that Michael Ball was probably sitting in his office somewhere ringing his hands and ready to pull the plug on the whole debacle, when the phone call came through. "Mr. Ball, I know we were $25.00 short to have the race team together for another year, but you needn't worry, as we just sold a shirt. Youre now safe to renew everyones contracts for next season."
Its all my fault.
The only other thing that might be noteworthy would be that Yakima had an effegy of me that they had kids swinging wildly at with a bat.
I dont know what I ever did to any of them to justify such a wrath, but I suspect the individual on the left side of this shot covering his face might have some clue.
Anyhow, we got a pretty awesome letter from Andrew a week or so ago in which he included a list of all of the things hes accomplished in his new Brunos;
Dont ever let it be said that we dont put our goods through a rigorous battery of tests..
Now seeing as every time I dont check my mail for a day or two, and my inbox swells to epic proportions, it might be a good idea to now see what folks in other parts of the land(s) are up to.
Chris writes;
"Stevil,
I know you like bikes and I know you like art, so can a pile of bikes be art? Ill let you decide..
As we all may know, when Marcel Duchamp put a urinal in a museum, it redefined what is, and what is not art. Id say if a pisser could be considered as such, then by all means, a pile of bikes would be as well.
And Craig writes;
"Hagen (named after my favorite MTB trail) first birthday and first bike. No training wheels for this boy!
Cheers, Craig"
I wanted to name my son after my favorite trail as well, however when I called him "Bloody Nose" the lady in the hospital threw a handful of flower in my face, and I never saw him again.
While were on the topic of the bambinos;
"Check out Squid's DNA on the back of the Dixon. That's Amy...Squid's wife. She had something to do with the Squidlet as well....
His kid's name is Keiran."
It does my heart good to see some of these little ones being raised right.
Johns not a baby, but we got an email from him just the same;
"Words escape me with regards to what this thing is. It's like a bouncy, Flintstoney foot-powered tricycle coaster thingy.
Another couple of years and we'll all be using carbon fiber versions of this thing to get around, except for the old-fashioned "steel is real" types and the art students who insist on building structure out of bamboo.
Or something.
John"
Every year at the trade show theres a whole flock of these mad scientist types who show up with goofball inventions like these. Does anybody remember the 'Risey Go' guy?
Anyway, its been a life long dream of mine to get a mob atop Mount Tam with a slew of these bikes, and have an all out, no holds barred death race to the bottom. Oh, Id also like to have one of those four seater pedal powered things with the tasseled canopy tops that tourists spin around in Golden Gate Park on the weekends included as well.
That would be history in the making, I suspect.
Did somebody say 'bacon'?
"Hey Stevil,
I enjoy your blog-i-ness.
Here are two photos, I thought I would share with your audience, which prove that, although I am a vegetarian, I respect bacon.
The first is a choco-bacon treat my fiance and I found in a fancy chocolate shop in the Strip District of Pittsburgh (it's not as sexy as it sounds).
The second is photographic evidence that I owned at one point in my life, a can of Celebrity Bacon! (myself pictured)
Unfortunately, this cultural gem was lost when my future father-in-law helped us move and discarded it. The day I realized it was gone, is the true meaning of "the bummer life."
Keep it real.
--
Brian Hare"
Brian, I feel as though it was probably for the best that you lost that can of goodness, as you would most likely have come home after last call at some point felling a little bit peckish, alot of bit brave, and disaster would have struck.
Well folks, were getting to just about the long and the short of it from this end. Its Wednesday, and there are some fun things on the docket for this evening, though after spending three hours riding into the wind, sleeping in the back of the U-Haul truck, carrying all 10 billion pounds of our Sea Otter booth back and fourth five times and then into the warehouse on Sunday night, I woke up on Monday and while in the shower washing my hair, pinched a nerve in my neck leaving me more or less down for the count again.
Yeah- I know. Thats what I get for washing my hair.
At this point the only fairly significant way of avoiding the bummer life as I see it, is to not get old.
As I mentioned to Brauer recently, there was a time in my life where I was really abusing the hell out of my body, and was always surprised that I never hurt myself.
Im rapidly coming to the conclusion that I hurt myself every time, I just didnt feel the effects until 15 years later..
This windfall of wisdom is a real pain in the neck.
Literally.
Anyhow, well leave you with a jump from neck trauma to George. It just rolls of the tongue, dont it?
"mega thanks dude!
the snow is beginning to melt and our souls have been purchased by the lower lands known as the high desert.
The amazing feeling of heat, sunburns, blood, dust and beer have added a much needed benefit to the weekend routine.
Fruita is rad and so are the backroads around here. free from lots of cars, but have a surprising amount of sleeping elk and deer taking naps along the road.
anywho - enjoy the night.
love,
g"
And how better to end with some love from the George?
The Sea Otter in a nutshell.
Young Hightower and I rode from Santa Cruz to Monterey. At one point while traveling into the constant headwind, I glanced at my computer and I was moving along at 17 miles an hour. I stopped pedaling, and within five feet, was at a dead stop. The wind didnt let up until Sunday morning, I ate bangers and mash with bacon and cheese on it, we drank some beers, and some people rode their bikes. Travis Brown took some single speeders to school, and eventually I tried to get in a gigantic book bag.
And if you had the misfortune of missing it, reading these words and looking at the following images should fill you in on all of the most important items. Ill have a few more in the coming days, but for now, as the title indicates, I am pretty beat up.
I gotta get this posted for our friends The Stomparillaz cause God knows Im not going to be in any kind of shape to report on Sunday night.
Mmmmmmmm....Bacon....
We finally got the ball rolling on Wednesday night hijinx this week, as a plan Ive long been formulating finally came to fruition.
As you might recall, last year we engaged in several variations of the one handed climb, and the one handed descent. I wanted to take it a step further, and move the event to a particularly rooty stretch of trail tucked back in the woods, that is a feat to climb with both hands on the bars, let alone one. I also thought it would be a good idea to include hotdogs, because there are few words that are more of a pleasure to exclaim in the same breath as "hotdog hill climb".
Fortunately just before we were to depart, the Swobo shipping computer took a crap so I scampered away to find a stove on which to cook up the dogs.
Of course I included vegetarian dogs for those in our ilk who were not of the meat eating persuasion, but they seemed to me to be made out of a substance not alot unlike Silly Putty.
I wrapped them all up in individual bundles, packed them into my Bob trailer in an insulated bag and headed out to the meeting spot. Young Hightower,who was last years season winner kicked things off to a rocky start with an immediate dab, but held his head up high with the knowledge that there are many more opportunities to not suck.
We had a special guest of honor who rolled through proving just why it was that at one point in his life, he made his living riding a bike.
Anyway, after the final dog had hit the ground, and the dust was settled, the Wisconsin Wunderkind known only as Oz came out victorious, just edging out second place for this weeks longest-technical-climb-while-eating-a-hotdog-contest.
Alright then. Moving on....
Landon from Tonic Fabrication emailed us a picture of Looch avoiding a bummer life, getting rad, and giving himself a breast exam all at the same time.
You know what they say about an ounce of prevention, right Looch?
Hoss got in touch with us with this bit of weirdness about world population reaching 6,666,666,666 on May 10th...
Hmmmm... Maybe its a good idea if I start cranking out some babies too.
While Im thinking about it, theres a couple of alley cats coming up in conjunction with this weekends festivities that I need to bring up.
Of course theres this one that Ive already clued you in on;
and then theres this one thats gonna be a good time as well;
Do one or do the other, or if you really want to establish unfaltering street cred, do 'em both and show the world just what a bad ass you really are.
Its been a while since a worthy Friday Hero has come along, and just when I thought there no more left, I get this email;
"I'd like to nominate this guy. For him, second place is not the first loser, he's just fine with it. Matter of fact, looks like he's really stoked to have done so well. Good for him, taking it in stride.
avoiding the bummer like
-honeswags (the one who's vomit was edited out in a george post)
ps do all people that put on alley cats have computer design degrees... cause there flyers are a little better than mine."
Judging on the overwelming number of fixed gear bikes I saw recently locked up outside at an art school, Id say there is actually a very good chance the folks putting on alley cats do in fact have a design degree... Or at least a bachelors in ceramics.
Ben writes;
"Stumbled into this picture while wasting some billable time. Best use of an Xtra Cycle I have seen so far."
As I told Ben, I got this image sent to me by a couple of folks today. Its good to know that were all on the same page, as it were.
CFO..Whatcha got?;
"I have never seen this one…That must be where the shit started hitting ze fan"
No doubt.
Hey- DPow! Give us the skinny;
"the Folsom is fucking rad. what else can be said? Product testing will resume at lunch hour. bar spin tests were conducted successfully last night, as was cruising with Colt 45 can in hand.
wish I could come by for some mint julips at sea otter. funny story first time I met you, was there at the bike mag tent. you were autographing Rocky Mountain posters for unsuspecting Freds. Best signature of the day was
"Lotta guys want my sweater, only you get in it. Dick"
Hil-larious."
I guess for the folks who dont know what DPows talking about, Ill give you the skinny. It was at Sea Otter a few years ago, and I for whatever reason ended up behind the table at the BIKE Magazine booth. There was a pile of posters there on the table depicting some superstar free rider getting rad. I started autographing them and before we knew it, there was a crowd forming and I was writing all kinds of horrible things to these folks that sadly maybe thought I was actually a 'somebody'.
Some people parlay their 15 seconds of fame into a career. Mine most likely ended up crumpled up in a trash can.
A couple of folks have sent on this article about this crazy new trend in mountain biking called... Get this.. 'single speeding.' Thats right, its like a regular mountain bike, except there arent any derailers. Can you imagine?!
Now, all sarcasm aside, Im not gonna sit up here on a high horse and act like I was the first person to ever throw a leg over a one speed, but I will say that I was present when one contemporary single speed luminary who will remain unnamed and whos bikes many have given a left nut for, said that riding a bike with one gear was stupid and didnt make any sense.
He absolutely was right, though I suspect he still would rather that conversation be a forgotten and buried thing.
And while were on the topic of bicycle industry luminaries, Shimanos A.K. is a bad, bad man.
He also takes pictures of himself sleeping through sales meetings.
Ill bet he was a terror in middle school.
So you might have noticed that the tone and overall look of The Bummer Life has changed a bit throughout this posting.
The reasons are two fold. One because I decided to use much larger pictures, and two because when I started this post on Thursday morning, I was still drunk.
Thats how the magic happens around here folks.
Another week has come and gone, and were not much richer, and definitely no wiser, but weve got you all and thats worth more than all the tea in China.
If these guys hadnt come up with this, I guess it was just a matter of time before Big Jonny did.
A million chagrined thanks to Complayna for bestowing these upon me.
Well Sea Otter is still a week away and its already kicked my carcass up and down the block, so in light of the fact that the suns going down and I still have a million things to do, Im just gonna blaze through a post as quickly as I can, so buckle up and here we go.
A few days ago I got a package in the mail of the darkest sort. Captain Dave sent me a parcel containing a complete Evil Cycling kit, which I christened on a long and quasi brutal pre-work road ride this morning. An interesting thing took place that I feel the need to expound upon now. As I weaved over hill and dale, cars were actually allowing me an unusually wide berth. At one point at least a dozen cars in a row passed me, giving me a full lane of wiggle room, which in the four and half years of residing in this particular area has never happened. (The Skipper claimed that it might have been because the passing motorists actually caught a glimpse of my moustache peeking out from either side of my head from behind) but barring that, I mean to tell you this kit just commands respect, however perhaps most notably as I approached a downhill four way stop, I glanced up to see a humongo white SUV opposite the intersection from me, and a hand in the windshield waving me through. I continued on, waving back in appreciation, and just as I passed I looked up and saw an extraordinarily attractive mom in the drivers seat giving me a long and head turning smile.
They say theres a first time for everything, but I thought Hell would indeed freeze over before I experienced even a glimmer of what I did this morning.
Who knew selling my soul would have such a staggeringly positive result?
But what did I see once I got back to civilization?
My life is just a series of contradictions.
So, back to Sea Otter- It looks like were going to be there with a little bit of product in tow.
Thats 360 gallons of Swobo goodness right there, so if any of yall are gonna be rolling through, would you PLEASE come by and buy some goods from us, cause I sure as hell am not looking forward to putting all of this away on Monday.
You know something I really do like though?
Dip cones.
Though dip cones and the end of days dont have much in common, a sign of the impending apocalypse was sighted this past weekend when I happened upon M.A and The Stick riding some brand new custom Hunter double boingers.
When the man who has long been known to ride bikes of the single gear and rigid variety shows up on the complete opposite, you know mankinds days are numbered.
Ive got to hand it to him though.. As opposed as I am personally to suspension bikes, his new design got me to drooling, as well as thinking about making a little more space in the garage.
Mail bag time? Yeah.. mail bag time.
"Stevil,
I hate to open up old wounds like your fork debacle but I couldn't help not refer to it when recounting my own similar experience building up a custom frame/fork just the other night. Fortunately for me, the end result was not so severe but for a time I was definitely feeling your struggle. Read more about it here.
Hope all is bummerless,
Chris"
Oh comeon.. Cutting the steerer while the fork is on the bike? Youve trumped my stupidity Chris, and it makes me think you might occasionally attempt to put on your underpants after youve donned your trousers...
But that being said- you came out on top, while I still just have a custom fork with a stubby steer tube sitting in my shop mocking me every time I walk into the room.
Ive got a bright future at Rolling Stone magazine ahead of me.
Brets hiding from you behind his glasses. Hes very shy.
As I mentioned on Fridays Guywire®, my better half and I were comped free passes to see the Bret Michaels Band on Friday night at the beautiful Fox Theatre in downtown Salinas California. Without getting too involved in my reaction to the evening, Ill just breakdown some thoughts in the form of a list;
1) Unlike this photo I stole from the interweb, Bret was actually wearing a t-shirt adorned with a huge image of his own face. You thought it was a faux pas to say... go see Alan jackson, or perhaps Third Eye Blind and then wear an Alan Jackson shirt or Third Eye Blind shirt to the show? Bret trumped the hell out of that...
And you are correct- It would be a faux pas to go see Third Eye Blind in the first place.
But not Alan Jackson.
2) There was clevage everywhere. I mean seriously- It was like standing in a field staring up into space on a perfectly clear night and seeing every star in the sky, except for that they were boobs.
3) A drunk guy at the bar told the girl- "I was back here looking and I just gotta say, I really like your ass" to which she responded "Thanks! Ive never actually seen it myself, But I guess I like an ass every now and again too." Then he mumbled something about her being an 'asstrologist'.
Awesome.
4) Two of the tramps from his VH1 hit 'Rock of Love' were there. It was unconfirmed weather or not they were actually charging thirty dollars a piece for body shots.
5) I saw a guy with a faux-hawk and a bald spot. Im no fashion diva, but Im reasonably sure its possible to have one or the other, but you can never have both.
6) From our perch we saw a sweet girl fight.
7) When upon stage Bret points alot as if to say, "Hey there you are! Oh, no way! I remember you! Oh! you there.. I saw you when we played the State fair! Yeah! Youre that guy!"
8) The opening band was called Sosa, or Sose or something and at one point towards the end of their set the singer announced, "Ive got a question for you all... Sammy or Dave?" I was so flabbergasted I could only stand with my mouth agape, but nothing could have prepared me for the flatlined response from the audience. They then launched into five of the most spot on, and flawlessly preformed tributes to classic Van Halen as my ears have ever heard.
I turned to the girl and said "from this point forward Van Halen will forever be known to me as 'Lee Roth'.
They were really that good.
9) As far as I know, (I got fed up and left before the show had concluded) The Bret Michaels Band has nary an original song in their set, as they played strictly Poison songs and a cover of 'Knocking on Heavens Door' that had he been dead, would have resulted in Bob Dylan turning in his grave so many times he could have drilled his way to China.
10) Bret Michales is a true showman who gives the audience 110%, and I have to give him credit for that despite the fact that hes a total douchebag.
And that concludes my live music review for this installment of How to Avoid The Bummer Life.
Now then- weve got a friend named Joe whos a pretty smart cat. Well he used to make these track hubs that went by the name of The Chub. He threw the whole project on the back burner for a couple of years, until recently when he got the old machine running again.
He says theyve got the pictured track hubs and single speed mountain hubs, but that you could use em for anything as long as you pay for em, and that Chub will have an honest to goodness booth at The Sea Otter ifin you would like to check them out for yourself.
Dont bother telling him that he should include a toy surprise inside of every hub though. I already tried that, and I dont think he listened.
You know those brainiac types.. They always need to come up with the kick ass ideas for themselves.
Recently the law firm for which Loudass is employed has fallen on some hard times and as a result have resorted to having him to stand outside the office on his lunch break in an attempt at drumming up some business.
If that doesnt instill confidence is the firms abilities, then I dont know what will.
"Spiderman, Spiderman... Doing what it takes to get you off of the public urination charge, Spiderman can."
Recently Ashley sent this site along to us, which has a pretty entertaining collection of photos such as the one below;
Generally Im always digging around in my bag looking for my camera when the good stuffs going down.
..Except for maybe this one I got of Sean.
I dont fancy myself as much of a photographer, but Im tying myself into knots patting my own back for this one.
CFO just sent shots of his new belt buckle that he had Jen Green make for him. I want one like that, but big like the Leadville 100 buckles. You know.. so big that it hurts to sit down.
I figure Jen could do it, but it would probably cost me about two weeks salary, and that just wouldnt be prudent seeing as Im still in debt to Circle A Cycles.
Of all the folks in my life to whom Ive recently owed money, I think I like owing money to them the best.
Chris said theyve been snapping shots in the shop as my new steed comes along, and when he puts them up on their site, you can bet Ill be bringing it up here incessantly.
Hey, what do you suppose George has been up to?
"hope all is well over there dude. check out the pics from one Friday in Denver. backyards, pan handler, a wedding and a sleepover party.
Good night and sweet dreams!
George"
I always like the photos George sends because they kinda dont have anything to do with anything, but I especially like the last one of the girl holding the knife due to the fact that presently Im reading 'The Dirt'- An autobiography on Motley Crue... And no offense to the depicted, but she could very well be one of the endless cast of the depraved that are so often referred to within the books pages.
And finally, any self respecting bike nerd knows that the world famous Paris Roubaix, or 'Hell of The North' bicycle race was this weekend, and as Ive done for the last dozen or so years, I went and took it out on myself on the back roads, and most pothole pitted descents I could find.
If youve spent any amount of time reading this here blog thing, you know that for the last decade Ive pretty much had my heart torn from my chest in regards to the world of professional road cycling.
Well, the Roubaix holds a very special place for me in that I feel as though it wads up the drug scandals and Michael Balls and just casually punts it all in the trash bin.
To me its always seemed bigger then that, and I can recall an issue of Cycle Sport in which the centerfold was a Graham Watson photo of Andre Tchmil the first year he won.
His knees were bloody and his face was purple, and I didnt know him from Adam, but I knew that here was a god among men, and no matter what kind of pain or hopelessness Ive felt on a bike, that it paled in comparison to what this individual was experiencing in the photo.
Fifteen years later I still have that poster, and I still have endless admiration for those who go to battle in this race and emerge victorious.
Its races like the Roubaix and people like Tchmil and this years winner, Tom Boonen that give me hope for the future of this sport that has at times had me on the edge of my seat with goose bumps, and conversely has at other times had me holding my head in shame and disbelief.
Congratulations Tom. Youve made me feel pride again.
As always, heres to everyone having had a great weekend, and as tolerable a Monday as you can. Its just two days away from Wednesday, which I kinda like to think of as a midweek Friday...Then you just gotta hold on for two more days until Friday hits and we can do it all over again.
This weekend I received an email from a fellow who just picked up one of our new Dixons. His story is not unlike those that so many of us in traffics trenches have experienced, but the conclusion is one that any of us could only ever hope for.
Max Steele not only has a superhero name, but also obviously has superhero mettle.
"Hey Swobo people,
I got my Dixon in on Wednesday and built it up that evening. However, I didn’t really get a chance to ride in until the next day. An interesting thing happened that I wanted to share in order to convey how satisfied I am with my new bike..
My first ride on the new Dixon was not a good one. I was stopped at an intersection about 90% of the way through my daily commute. It was raining lightly and the world was composed of various shades of grey. I was sitting two cars back from the light behind a white sedan. The car may have been a Chevy Malibu. Out of nowhere, the sedan began to back up. The driver was clearly not looking back or he might have seen me sitting behind him. My mind froze for that one crucial second and then BUMP! The car hit my front wheel. I began to shout things that I’m sure were not polite as his car rolled back ONTO my front wheel, pushing it beneath the rear bumper.
At that moment, I knew that my wheel would be destroyed. It’s not that I doubted the quality of the Alex 36 hole rims that Swobo choose for my bike. I just didn’t think that wheels survived that sort of thing. I was FURIOUS. I slapped the sedan’s trunk and roared with anger. This was my new bike. It was brand new and some asshole had crippled it on the first day.
The pounding on his trunk did the trick. The car, now slightly leveraged off the ground onto my wheel, stopped. It proceeded to roll forward, releasing the Dixon from a death grip. The driver jumped out of his car, in shock. He immediately began apologizing and inquiring about my wellbeing. Once I convinced him that I was fine, we turned our attention to my ruined bike.
Only, it wasn’t ruined at all. I lifted the frame and gave the front wheel a spin. It looked whole and true. The spokes were fine, the tire still held pressure. Nothing seemed wrong. We were both impressed and relieved and I let the driver go. I needed to get to work and I didn’t really feel that he deserved some sort of punishment for a 5 mile an hour collision.
Just to be safe, I ran the Dixon by my LBS so that one of the mechanics could insure that the rim hadn’t been fractured and that the bike was, in fact, perfectly fine. The mechanic told me that it was not uncommon for a low cost rim to be able to take this level of punishment, but I’m still pretty impressed. I definitely feel more comfortable riding the Dixon now that I know what the wheels can endure.
Thanks for the bike,
Thomas “Max” Steele
Portland, OR"
Firstly we are very glad that this story had a happy ending, and secondly, you can bet Max has forever locked himself a spot as the official Swobo research and development team.
I promised the good folks from Bike Works Albuquerque who are organizing this event that Id put this up, but I cant keep track of what date it is from one day to the next. Hopefully some of yall from down Albuquerque way will see this and get to it post-haste.
I finally have gotten almost full use of my arm back, and though I was feeling a little timid for fear of re-injury, The Skipper and I got out of work a bit early to partake in some dirt and solitude in the woods with our friends.
There were some new faces in the mix, which is always nice, but we were most excited to see Mr. Gills moustache make a return appearance, as its been a little while since hes been around.
Young Hightower and I parted ways with the group and took a long and breathtakingly beautiful fire road descent back down to the trails head.
There at the bottom we made a new friend,
as well as found a good spot to hangout on chilly Summer, Fall, Winter, or Spring evenings.
The horse came over to see us immediately, and I remembered I had an apple, and a banana in my bag, which he was happy to relieve me of.
But... have any of you looked into a horses mouth recently?
I hadnt, and as the hot, toothy and cavernous void moved over my hand, I had momentary flashes of pulling back a bloody nub, but as magnificently powerful as this animal was, he took the apple slices from my fingers with the gentile care of a cautious puppy, which I guess if you get right down to it, is kinda all a horse really is..
And secondly, as far as our new hangout goes, its all I can do not to start a fire in there for us to lounge around in front of, but the thought of how insanely busted Id get if I accidently burned the cabin down quelled any pyromaniacal desires.
Its true- Im a shell of the man I once was.
While Im thinking about it- You know.. I kinda spilled my guts here the other day, and out of that, I got some really amazing correspondences from some of you folks. Id like to offer my deepest thanks for the kind words, and the support that in some instances were given to me by complete strangers.
That, my friends, is a really good feeling.
That being said, lets move on to the mail bag, shall we?
It truly is the cringe felt around the world, and if Sky and El Corpo didnt have my balls in a jar on their desk, I bet I would have felt that one too.
There was a bit of concern floating around today for the health of my working environment as I received this from CFO, and the following image from DPow!
As I said, the office space that contains the brilliance of The Skipper and myself only has the wall of shame going for it. No M&Ms, no airplane models hanging from strings.. Nothing cool like that.
But... no sooner do I ask for submissions do I receive the following two starbursts of genius.
The first from one who we only know of as Stupidpuma;
And now the crowning jewel that well give a little bit of a before and after treatment.
So back to the Wednesday night ride for a second. Since Ive been injured, and tied up with other junk, I havent really had much time to put into coming up with new feats of strength, but next week Ive got something cooking thats maybe gonna go down in the annals of history as one of the best.
Maybe.
...Either way, you heard it here first.
Now to close this one out, Im gonna barrage your eyes will a wall of video clips sent in from Intern A;
or being the Hennesey Drinking step father of this kid who refuses to leave his room to ride the bike you gave him cause he spends all his time building the best finger bike park EVER!!!!!!!!!
Oh for the love of all thats good Intern A, just embedding all of that, I watched some of my own hair turn grey. Promise me that youll never send an email like that to me again, and that youre going to walk straight out the door and take your dog for a spin around the block or something.
Alright- Thats all Ive got in me. Next week well have more love from our own George, a new contest, and the regular crap that keeps you coming back for more.
And before I go, I gotta remind any Bay Area dwellers about the cowboy-on-dinosaur bicycle freak out in the park.
Should you ever ask yourself what kinds of simple pleasures make my world go round, (and if you do, you really need to read a book or something) one answer would be coming home to find a pair of custom Vans on my doorstep.
Ive said it before- Im a simple person with simple needs.
Anyhow, just as I was putting the finishing touches on the piece about the fellow who I found in the woods, I heard a particularly mouthy and slurpy sound coming from the cats food bowls. It turns out a really damn big raccoon was partaking of the kittys kibble, and was too freaked out to have the good graces to leave from the door through which he came, so I swear on all thats good and right, I just chased the varmint all around the house while the cats stared wide eyed offering no help at all.
Finally before leaving, he jumped up and knocked the water cooler jug on the ground, just to let me know Im his bitch...
And that my friends is county livin'.
Our friends at ye old Soil Saloon(dot)com are keeping their promise for a monthly dirt party, and have offered yet another cowboy/dinosaur emblazoned flyer for our edification.
Hell, I just might make it to one of these someday. Maybe it will be this one... You know, but dont let that stop you from going.
That is unless Ryan and his new race ready machine are on the line, then we all might as well just stay home, cause we dont have a chance.
Weve got this friend that we affectionately refer to as 'Millionare Bob' primarily due to the fact that for the decade or so that weve known him, he somehow skirts round ever, and I mean EVER having a job. Well I mean to tell you that he surely lived up to his moniker as during one of my visits to the tattoo shop this past weekend, there was a little gift that hed left for me.
He told me that he likes to keep gifts floating around the world of bike nerds, and that in the couple of times hed used these, he just didnt like them very much. I dont know about you, but I dont think Millionare Bob even opened the box, let alone clipped into them, but he swears, and really now... who am I to argue?
In all of the gift horses Ive come across in my life, and with God as my witness, Ive never looked into the mouths of any of them.
El Corpo has been jet setting around the globe lately, and this week has been no different, although at one point over the weekend, I couldnt help but feel as though his steely gaze was upon me. Just then, a cold shiver ran down my spine and I turned to see his puppy Guy staring me down as if to say, "I know youre screwing around and wasting money. WORK HARDER!"
El Corpos eyes and ears are everywhere.
So- as far as the 'whats the significance of Sams tattoo' contest that I put in lights on Monday, we ended up with a couple of winners.
The first of course being Ben who came through not 20 seconds after I posted the the final edit with this;
"D=500
C=100
L=50
X=10
V=5
I=1
Grand Total:666
Iron Maiden would be proud....."
and the second being Darcy who upped the ante, and gave me oh, so much more than I ever could have dreamt for;
"DCLXVI = 666
The name of a broken up metal band from Sweden. Oh but there's more... A deeper connection to this here lifestyle: An Entombed album with the title of: "DCLXVI To Ride, Shoot Straight... TRUTH." Testify!"
Now understand that I generally keep the folks that tune in here day after day on a fairly high pedestal. I would never presume that there was a dim bulb in the bunch, but I was sure that it would take a little more mental wrangling than that to come up with the answer.
I mean, I thought finding so many who were so well versed in the numerals of Rome would be like finding somebody who could bust a rhyme in Latin. In light of all of your swiftness I have come to the harsh realization that really, the only dim bulb here is me.
So congratulations Ben and Darcy. Email me with your physical cordinates, and Ill get you caps post haste.
Youve both made me extremely proud, and as Sam has told me, as well as posted in the comments section, he did in fact get that ink done on June sixth, 2006. I told him all I was doing that day was riding around with a boom box in my Bob trailer blaring 'South of Heaven', and an 18 pack of beer, which isnt nearly as profound.
Recently one of the senior grand wizards of The Warlocks emailed me a photo of himself in possibly more innocent times, just to prove that they are indeed a force to be 'wreckoned' with.
And Loudass sent me an email that was simply titled;
"200 pounds of melancholy".
You can bet that if we had an actual copy of ether of these photos, they would have a very top spot of honor upon our wall of shame, which by the way has been sorely neglected as of late.
Submissions for said wall should be, but are not necessarily exclusive to;
Grade school photos/photos of yourself when you had a mullet (the latter of which most especially applies to the ladies reading this.)
Photos posing with any B list celebrities, or celebrities who go by retarded monikers- Mr. T, Carrot Top, Emo Phillips, Tia Tequila, George Bush, and of course Danzig.
Likewise, all photos of people air humping behind any A list celebrities will do just fine as well.
And lastly, bike crash photos, and/or homemade pornography...
...And so on...I think you get the idea.. If my day time hours are spent between staring at a computer screen and a wall, I will do my best to make at least one of the two interesting.
On that note, Its Wednesday, Ive got two bags of balloons in my back pack, and not a single idea what to do with them, but Im sure Ill figure something out.
I mentioned on Monday that I went on a spin through the dreamy Oakland Hills this past weekend, but what I didnt bring up was that I stopped by a rather macabre spot that holds a special place in my heart.
On the morning of April 30th, 1999, my friend Sammy and I were on a pre-work mountain bike ride, and as we ascended a short but technical stretch of singletrack, I spied off to my left a man laying back over this stump in a heap. In a matter of seconds I closed in him, laughing to myself thinking he had perhaps wandered away from a party the night before and rested his weary carcass where he lay, but as I moved over him I noticed that his face was bloody, so my second thought was that hed been beat up and dumped, as that sort of thing is not totally out of the realm of possibility. However as I gazed into his eyes, and blood filled mouth the realization that he was dead hit me like a ton of bricks. Sammy, who was a few yards behind me asked me what was going on as I raced past him to go find a telephone and I told him not to let any casual dog walkers or early morning joggers onto the trail.
I called the police, and a short time later the sleepy mountain road was filled with police cars, fire trucks and ambulances, and within minutes detectives questioned us separately, eventually letting us go. I spent the next 48 hours repeating to myself that a body is simply a vessel in a vain attempt at looking at the horror Id just experienced in some sort of clinical and justified light, but it was all for not as two days later enroute to meet another friend for a ride, I was feeling unusually exhausted and just wanted to go back to my flat to sleep. On the return home I was fighting unconsciousness and the second I got to my door, the lights went out and I went into massive convulsions. Luckily my pal Jake who had spent the night, came out to find me flopping around on the sidewalk and called an ambulance for me. I came to almost 20 minutes later in the back of the van answering the attending EMTs query of what year it was with an authoritative "its 1989, man".
That started me on a year long downward spiral of Depakote, doctors visits, revoked licenses, and just generally wondering 'whats it all for?' Ive often times thought about putting a laminated note on the memorial bench thats been placed at the scene asking for any family to contact me, just so that I might finally have some closure.
When I think about the fact that I was a matter of yards from this man who snuffed out his own existence, (two women who we kept away from the scene said that theyd heard the shot, though I couldnt recall hearing anything at all) and that our imminent arrival could have hastened his decision to pull the trigger, still almost ten years later makes me feel like crying.
Perhaps Im over thinking all of this, but the fact remains that I have a relationship with this person and what I feel to be a bond that gos far beyond any Ive ever experienced with any other individual.
Life found me yet again with my arm slung to my side, riding a million miles to nowhere.
When Parkin payed us a visit two weeks ago, he said to me, "you know the only thing rollers are good for right?...
-Making yourself sterile."
Nothing like a bit of reaffirmation to make you feel like youre doing all the wrong things right.
A month or so ago we were discussing the forever enjoyable game of 'would you rather'. Now after having some time to mull over many different impossible choices, I remembered one that I was never able to comfortably settle on. This goes far beyond eating a ball of your own poo above an over cooked steak and whole milk diet, or dancing everywhere for a year versus big headphones playing the same Slayer song over and over. This one is far more sinister.
Would you rather get a gig playing a year long tour as a member of the sneaky Jesus band Creed;
Or a year long gig playing in the eternally annoying Limp Biscuit;
After much deliberation, and late nights sweating this one out, Ive finally picked the latter, though ether way you slice it, incarceration in an asylum for the mentally ill might be a preferable alternate if given the choice.
Not that you need a reminder, but seeing as Im on the payroll of the dark minds behind the up coming Sleaze Otter Alleycat, Im going to re-remind you of their impending shindig.
It looks like theres other alleycats happening that same weekend, and assuming you cant get to all of them, all you need to know about this one is that if you show up in full zombie makeup, you wont get punched in the stomach.
Really, how can you go wrong?
As much as The Sea Otter has been often times been touted as a 'celebration of the bicycle', with all of the road racing, and the dirt jumping and so on, Im just waiting for the day that the organizers of the event include something as bitchin as the human powered roller coaster.
Are the Sea Otter powers-that-be listening?
We certainly hope so, however with the inevitable annual downpours that seem to coincide with the weekend, it might just turn into the human powered blood bath.
Now seeing as a day doesnt seem to pass without a sighting of The Beasts mark, Bryan got ahold of us with yet another, proving that The Devil is not only is approaching with swiftness, but upon his arrival, he just may be wearing girls pants as well;
"Stevil-
Thinking about the random occurrences of the triple sixes, I had one occur on Ebay a few days ago. I think this just proves that site is possessed, and that track cycling may be the cause of that possession.
Peace from the great white north of Houghton, MI,
Bryan G."
I always figured The Dark Load as a bit of a single geared nerd.
However, while were on the topic of girls pants, 6'7' sent this bit on about emo kids in Mexico getting a beatdown. I used to know this big BMX bruiser named Troy who was a super ripper, and who always liked to refer to himself a BMXican.
I wonder if any of these kids have yet to coin the term 'Emoxican'.
Probably not, and wouldnt it figure like a dumb cracker like myself would come up with something so lame?
This is nether here nor there, but I got a phone call from my dad this weekend responding to a recent photo of the girl and me Id emailed to my mom, and he asked- 'is that really your moustache?' implying that perhaps it was a prosthetic- to which I could only reply, 'of course it is. It was your damn genetics that caused this greatness.'
I swear, of all the people to pose such a ridiculous inquiry, my own father should know better.
And while Im thinking about it, at the wedding I attended this past weekend, a friend of mine looked at me quizzically and said "your breath smells like butterscotch."
Curious and knowing this most certainly couldnt be the case I replied to him, "It does?"
To which he said "Yeah, but I cant tell if its butt or scotch."
I walked right into it.
Anyhow, as this weekend winds to an end, I had the pleasure of spending some very quality time bouncing around The Bay Area for a piece. I attended the previously mentioned Manifesto opening party, which was a fine time for all, and really- should you find yourself in central Oakland, please go in and say hi. Its a lovely shop, run by two very lovely people, and actually while youre there, stop in next door to 1-2-3-4 GO! Records, and pick yourself up a vinyl copy of a Crass or Metallica album just for good measure.
Also, if anyone can tell me the significance of Manifesto proprietor Sams tattoo, let me know, and theres a free Swobo hat in it for you.
And dont bother trying to get the answer from the man whos arm this adornes, because hes been sworn to secracy, and if I find out youve cheated, your hat will include a very unpleasant surprise.
Saturday night a few folks braved the cold winds to attend an art opening at the Receiver Gallery, and at one point while getting a breath of fresh air, we watched in amazement as two young ladies spent the better part of ten minutes attempting to figure out how to securely lock their fixies up outside. I finally couldnt take it anymore and offered that it would probably be safe to frame lock them together as Id never seen anyone able to ride away on a bike with another bike locked to it.
JMac then said he was going to purchase some of those big Clark Kent glasses with a spy camera attached so he could document just that sort of spectacle.
Sunday found me finally feeling good enough to actually ride my bike around my old stomping grounds of the Oakland Hills, and I got a few hours in on the road, with even a little bit of dirt thrown in with nary a twinge of pain from my arm.
It was truly a walk down memory lane that I wont soon forget, and was thrilled to have the chance to do it.
Afterwards, feeling brave in my stretchy pants, and tap shoes, I stopped in to see some of our favorite tattoo artists Sean and Jason at FTW Tattoo Studio.
Any tattoo shop that welcomes you in your full bike nerd regalia is really a good one to keep close at hand.
So thats the long and the short of it. I can only hope that you all had as kickass of a weekend as I did. I could use alot more of that kind of break from my day to day rigamarole, as well as those kinds of people in my life, and now that Ive had a taste, I plan on not depriving myself so frequently.
- I recommend you all do the same.
Its Monday, which is pretty lame, but its just one day closer to free time, and there aint a damn thing wrong with that.
The Bummer Life is all about feeling good in your own skin.
Beginning of product review;
Ordinarily Im not the type to expound on the virtues of this bike doodad, or that bike doodad. The fact of the matter is, I dont really care. In the big picture, if the cranks dont break, or the freewheel helps propel you forward, Im not much of a stickler on the other specifics. So it should go without saying that city bike tires should not suck. Sky layed some of these super bomber Continental Tour Plus numbers on me, and they are quite the opposite of suck.
Ive never said much at all about my affinity for tires, so youve heard it here first.
End of product review.
Now my bikes a happy bike, and not a sad bike.
My bike and I are simple beasts with simple needs.
Patron saint of bike messengers Squid is front and center once again.
If you cant read the text, its just a bunch of blablablaing about alleycats and fixed gears this, and how he and his family spend their weekends in the Hamptons that.
You know, the usual.
Have you ever wondered what kind of offspring would result in a night of unbridled dirtiness between XC nerdom, and Downhill EXTREME!ness?
Well some peeps in New York City have, and decided to take a shot as acting as the wet nurse.
It looks like its gonna be a bastard child with a full face and shaved legs,
(Insert shudder here)
but we imagine that its gonna be a blast for all involved. If youre in smelling distance of a crackheads uniquely romantic aroma to the event, get yourself there and partake.
Do you know two other great tastes that taste great together? Kyle does;
Marini's in Santa Cruz has chocolate covered bacon.
Tasted more like chocolate than bacon but it was still good.
The Proof:"
Holy mother of our lord... Thats in Santa Cruz? Thats practically where I do my thing. How is it that I havent been drawn to this like so many moths to a flame?
From time to time an email drops in our inbox that just motivates us to sit back, cross our laps in our hands like so, and smile like weve finally done something right. Usually its followed by a trip to the restroom where while relieving myself, my pen will fall out of from behind my ear and land in the urinal because God doest want me hurting my shoulder patting myself on the back. Never the less, the warm fuzzies tend to linger just the same.
Matthew sent us just such an email that Id like to share with you now;
"Stevil, Swobo God, or to whom it may concern:
Just wanted to shoot my appreciation your way and send my blog post wherein I sing your praises and thank you for saving my family life, all on a rainy day in Baltimore:
And while were at it, why not keep the good times rolling with an email from Frank.
"So last year I did the 30 rides in 30 days and although it was cool, it seemed a little self indulgent (the whole recovering catholic thing). So this year, I am going to do 30 rides in April, but I am also going to do 30 hours of advocacy to offset my guilt. This will include clip and ride -rides, volunteering at a couple of charity rides, hours spent hassling people on the computer for better trails, attending some questionable PR event (I'll clue you in later on this one) and at least 10 hours of busting my ass building trails. I am the state IMBA rep after all, so it shouldn't be hard, but I think if I focus on it and have other folks waiting to bust my chops if I fail will make it happen. So not only will I be better come May, this might just be a better place to ride."
The world could use more people like Frank.
Last weeks haiku winner Gabe sent along a photo of another high caliber individual who the world could use more of. His friend Pinch.
That hand coming in from the left seems to be gesturing "No, seriously Pinch- you, your Santa hat and yoga pants should just stay on the floor."
If the Big Sandy free tshirt offer wasnt enough to get you motivated to get to the race, perhaps the prospect of getting knocked off of your bike by a gigantic and delightfully lovely lady is.
Anyway, back to Franks mention of the 30 in 30 for a second. Ive engaged in this fairly ludicrous challenge for the last two years, and truth be told, ended up with nothing to show for it but a windburned face, and a calloused soul, so this year Ive undertaken something far more spectacular. Presently Im working on day 42 in the same pair of JMac knickers, and even more impossibly, 95 days with a moustache.
You think riding 30 days in a row is a feat? You dont know nothin'.
Moving on...Recently Pilderwasser(dot)com reached deep in the box, and claimed his prize.
You never know when you order a Swobo goodie what kind of crap might arrive to you along with your goods. What can be guaranteed however that whatever it is, it will be misspelled.
Were making friends all over the place lately. Most recently they come in the form of these folks down on Americas skin tag of Florida, who have made an absolutely gigantic effort (not to mention flyer) for their upcoming bash.
Todd, who is the impresario of sorts for this event elaborates;
"Hello Stevil -
Here is the finished flyer for Fixed Fight 2. Feel free to check out www.horroh(dot)com/alleycat as well.
One thing to add that is not mentioned on the flyer is this special offer to those attending:
SPECIAL “HELMET HEAD-START” OFFER:
Anyone wearing a cycling helmet during Fixed Fight 2 will receive a ten-second head-start advantage at the race.
Thanks Again!
- Todd"
Wearing a helmet to an alleycat race? Oooohhhhh maaaannnn.... That is so 1998...
Alright. I guess these sheets have been sufficiently shaken out. Not that anyone cares, but I can now lift my arm over my head now for the first time in three weeks. I ran into a friend at coffee, and told him about the collision, to which he responded that hed heard about a similar ordeal from his boss, who in turn had heard from his friend about crashing into a guy around that same time.
Im waiting for more info, because as the days draw on, and I still am only barely able to stand up and pedal, the eagerness to find out that perhaps I wreaked a similar havoc is growing.
Im really just that petty.
On that note, everybody have a humdinger of a weekend. Id say that without a doubt, weve all earned it.
No sooner do I clean out my inbox does it fill back up again..
I tend to not be a terribly organized individual. I mean I always know pretty much where everything is, but I dont have files, drawers, or boxes for any of it. This is why Im going to turn over my proverbial drawers once again in an attempt to (1) unload a bunch of crap, and (2) seeing as a good bit of what Ive got this time around is event related, I will be notifying folks far and wide of fun things to occupy your idle time with..
Speaking of which, heres a little clip from New Belgium co-staring our boy Scott as the sad, sad commuter.
Speaking of Scott, Scott likes Motorhead, and you show me somebody who has a thing for Motorhead and wouldnt love a Lemmy doll, and Ill show you a damn faker.
"Thats the way I like it baby- I dont want to live forever" indeed.
Now, speaking of fakers, CFO just wrote in and said;
"The roads up here finally dried out enough to ride outside today.. it made me feel this gay.
That is actually how I pictured you in my mind before seeing photos...
CFO"
The funny thing is, those photos of me CFO is referring to I was actually resting because it takes a fair amount of energy to be that happy all of the time.
Speaking of happy, The Snake Hawk has a couple of ho-downs hed like to bring to everyones attention.
Thats North Carolina folks. The one just to the West of East Carolina, and East of West Carolina.
It should be noted that Snake Hawk is the vice president of the CHEST HAIR NOW! action group.
Why should it be noted you might ask?
Because once youve run your fingers through his, it will be obvious.
Now, Speaking of East Carolina there are rumors abounding that theres all kinds of alley cat races happening in Monterey the same weekend as the world famous Sea Otter Classic bicycle extravaganza.
Were here to tell you that the only one that matters is thisun' right here;
Were still not entirely sure that there are actually any alleys in Monterey, but thats nether here nor there. All that matters is that you spread the word of this like so much wild fire. Rick Hunter doesnt throw sponsorship goodies to just anybody, so you know its the real deal.
And speaking of wild fire, heres a spot of proof further convincing us that Hummers are the toughest and most awesomest vehicles on the planet.
Speaking of awesomest, the mountain bike season is nearly upon us and heres a flyer and some info on one happening almost smack dab in the middle of the Golden State;
As if a free tshirt werent enough motivation, Chris supplied a little more;
"Nothing better than a free T shirt. it has so many uses. Like a seat cover for a pre-68 vw beetle, an emergency dress shirt for the trunk in case of job interview or cut the sleeves for a free all-day Gun Show.
And don't forget what wearing a Big Sandy Race shirt says about you.
"Yeah, I race mountain bikes, even though I spend more time at Home Depot."
"I don't buy my clothes at the mall, I shop at bike shops."
"I eat right all week and go to bed at 9:00 pm before race day and still come in DFL."
"My wife has no say in what I wear."
"I won a medal too, but I feel like a tool when I wear it to Starbucks."
"I registered early and race promoters love me."
Everything you need to register for this is right here
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now while a tshirt might be enough for most folks, Chris peppered my motivation with a bit more love;
As I just wrote to him, thats about enough to bring me out of retirement again.
And speaking of retirement, we dont suppose you all remember a ripper originally from Sacramento that went by the name of Sam Cunningham, do you?
Well ether way, we have to let you know that he and his better half have opened up a little bicycle boutique, if you will, that goes by the name of Manifesto in Oakland, and theyre planning their opening bash for this coming weekend.
And just for good measure, heres a photo of Peter happily crunking, or whatever the kids are calling it these days, along side of one of the shops first sales.
Thats enough for now. Ive got gobs more junk to spread around on the inside of your eyeballs, but the weeks just half way over and Ive got so save some for Friday.
Ill leave you with this prized bit of info, and just so you know what kind of badass resides on the other side of this here Swobo blog, check this link, and sleep with one eye open tonight knowing that I could take out 26 of those little hellions, however truth be told, Id imagine Id fair a bit more poorly against these kids.
With a high kick here, and a karate chop there, Im out.
Ordinarily Id hate these two for looking so good, but theres really no denying, Demonika and JMac make a smashing couple.
Thanks for holding down the fort in my absence. I gotta tell you, after having survived the lap of luxury these last few days, I dont know how rich people do it.
I spent a total of 36 hours alternating between a pool, and a hot tub, ate like a king, drank my body weight in alcohol, and at one point at 2:00 in the morning, in the hot tub, surrounded by naked bodies, and pouring a handle of Jack Daniels into my face, I exclaimed "SO THIS IS WHAT ITS LIKE TO BE DAVID LEE ROTH!?"
The wedding was amazing, and Ill go on record here to say that I am truly blessed to know some of the folks that I do.
I dont know how they got so unlucky to be stuck with me.
So, that being said, Im just gonna go ahead and get right into it.
Justin writes;
"Yo Man. safe travles. you should put on a monkey suit. those are hard to find so gorilla suit is a good 2nd choice. people always seem to get a kick out of that. while the FresnOakland will be getting rad via 3 or 4 hours on dirtbikes with a couple hundred of the worlds politest cyclists this weekend, were all a just bunch of sissies compared to this guy:
seems right up your alley. I love the part when the voice in the background goes "Hey, HEY!"
Later"
Up my alley? If you mean mainlining into the spine of my soul, then yeah- youre right.
Marty has one that makes me feel good as well;
"Stevil -
In another shocking occurance in the so-called randomness of the
6-6-6, I present to you this:
I reside in the lair of the beast hisself, as proven by my oh-so
accurate GPS. I was lazing about after my last ride, enoying a taste
of the Creamy Darkness[leinies!], and look at the little unit picutred
here-with and noticed the elevation. Now many of you coast dwellers
think living in the midwest must be hell. I mean it is flat after all.
And those Minneapplepuss charachters don't help. Here's your proof!
Right here on the Mrs. Hippy, we do in fact reside in hell.
But it was only for a few minutes. Only moments later I was suddenly a
hundred feet higher, with no vertigo. Wierd. Musta been the beer.
Carry on with your Friday high-jinks.
marty"
At this point, its not even interesting how many times I come across the triple six.
In fact at one point this weekend, I was in a public restroom about to wash my hands, and there was a fellow on ether side of me as well. Well we were at this faucets with the infrared eye that turns on the water automatically, and as we all simultaneously dove in for soap and water, mine was the only one that received none.
It was at that point that I realized I have no soul.
Wes (in Toronto) had something Ive been looking for;
"Speaking of Garfield, have you seen the awesomeness that is Garfield Minus Garfield? Basically some genius (clearly) has selected Garfield cartoon strips, but photoshopped out Garfield leaving us with a glimpse into the psyche of one Jon Arbuckle. I always knew something wasn't right with that guy.
Quote from the site: "Who would have guessed that when you remove Garfield from the Garfield comic strips, the result is an even better comic about schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and the empty desperation of modern life? Friends, meet Jon Arbuckle. Let's laugh and learn with him on a journey deep into the tortured mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against loneliness in a quiet American suburb."
Thats so good. Ive always felt that Garfield and I have quite alot in common. He loves lasagna, and I love lasagna, he hates Mondays, and I hate Mondays, now hes gone missing, and after this past weekend, my livers gone missing...
Were like two peas in a pod.
You might notice that theres not that much bike action to speak of on these posts lately.
Thats a big, fat, stinking drag as my shoulders still detached. Its much better then it was a week and a half ago, but its still far from 100%. Im giving myself another week, and then the training for my upcoming breakout season will begin.
I will regale you all with tales of my training schedule, how many miles Ive logged that week, and all about my aspirations to be the fastest man within 500 miles around.
It will be just like old times.
And while were speaking of epic races, and the race seasons of heros, I got a flyer from somebody out East for an event thats gonna go down in The Big Apple.
And also speaking of folks from out East, and The Big Apple, I got a photo from someone who on very good authority can back up that the following image is actually that of the reclusive Bike Snob of New York City.
It should also be noted that this individual is in fact wearing a Danzig shirt.
It circled back to him, and he swears it to be a hoax, but when it turns out to be true-remember this;
You heard what very well could be true, here first.
Im about to die and its only Tuesday, but El Corpo put a nice card on my desk while I was away that I will share with you now.
And there was obviously some note worthy events around the office while I was away.
It may be the beginning of the week, but at the very same time its still only four days til the end and that my friends is just plain rad..
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