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 hand full 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?

Its Wedneday. All youve got left is to do it.