You all see these skid marks?

Well this exact spot is where our friend Retodded found himself on the business end of a drunk drivers negligence early Sunday evening. As Retodded tells it, he looked over his shoulder twice before changing lanes noting a car about 40 yards behind him, and as he was at the mouth of the left hand turn lane, he heard the brakes lock up behind him, checking over his shoulder one last time before the car obliterated his bike from beneath him, throwing him up onto the hood, his helmeted head shattering the windshield, and then when the car finally came to a stop, he was pitched forward and actually upside down, landing on his head again, and then ultimately ended the performance with a right hand slide across the blacktop into home plate.

All of that and he only emerged with some sweet road rash, and a trip to the hospital where he said all of the nurses were really pretty.

The cops came to see him and confirmed that the driver was in fact well beyond the legal limit, and was tucked away in a jail cell.

I dont really know what to say except that Im glad that our hero is well. In fact hes better than well, because as I type, hes in Colorado riding mountain bikes, but Id also like to say that I suspect the driver will get off alot easier than an individual who was say, drunk, playing with a pistol in public, and accidentally shooting someone in the foot, which for all intent and purposes in my mind is about the same thing.

I hope the guy rots.

We have yet another story of skin loss sent in by Will, although fortunately it was by his own doing and not a douchebag lost in a bottle while piloting a coffin;

"Hey Stevil,

Sorry I missed you while you were in Denver, I had to spend some time at the urgent care earlier that evening, then I was relaxing on drugs and eating a pizza. Here's what happened, maybe you can feature it in your famous blog (I'm a big fan):

The whole saga is here.

I don't want you to think I ask for favors with an empty hand, so I offer this to you to use as you see fit:

I was at a wedding in SF a week back, and they had a brunch the next day with the loveliest pile of bacon I've ever seen, it was at least six inches high. Delicious.

Once I heal, I will continue avoiding bummerdom.
--
Will"

Its good to know that Will is in good shape as well, despite his run in with gravity. And that picture that he sent of the pile o' pork reminds me of a time when I was just a wee lad that my folks took me to brunch at The Marriott in Downtown Denver. I dont think at that point in my life Id ever been to a buffet before.. At least not one as immense, so I had to plan my strategy wisely.... Id start on one side of the room and I would eat one of everything that there was to offer. I had Belgian waffles, and regular waffles. I ate every kind of pork product imaginable and partook of eggs prepared at least five different ways. I ate rolls, and danishes, and fruit, and then finally, I attacked the soft serve machine.
I remember it as if it were yesterday, a solitary bite of ice cream that I was chasing around the bottom of the bowl, so full I wanted to die, but completely unwilling to let it go to waste. I removed my little clip on tie, and unhitched my belt, hoping that it would bring some relief, but none was to be found.
Finally, my dad told me it was time to go. We got into the car and I made it about two miles, before we had to pull over so that I could get out and walk, our car slowly cruising along beside me, as if I were a boxer, and my dad the trainer, offering words of encouragement as I trudged along in an attempt at initiating some rapid digestion.

Surprisingly, to this day Ive yet to find a buffet that presents a challenge to me. Its true what they say.. If you get bucked off a horse, its best to get right back on, and as far as partaking in obscene amounts of food goes, Im living proof of that old adage.

John Patrick witnessed a sight that might ultimately lead some poor sap to the same fate;

"I saw this sign proclaiming EVERY MONDAY ALL U CAN EAT BACON! on my way to New Belgium's Tour de Fat in Chicago this Saturday.

It looks like a few folks out there are helping to ease the pain of Mondays. I attached another couple photos from the Tour de Fat as well -

the main stage and a few rides from the Rat Patrol, including a grill bike and a puppet show bike."

I suspect the fellow in the third photo hiding back there in the plaid shirt might be no stranger to the bacon party..

Now listen, as much as I want to veer away from the traditional subject matter here on The Bummer Life, I cant very well do it if folks continue to send in the goods. Its like a junkie running away from the fix. The dealers are always gonna know where to find them.
Case in point, the email I received from Craig concerning this past weekends Granja Del Cerdo race in Montana;

"hey stevil

just a follow up on this past weekends mtb race. good vid cap of dog eating.
folks were porked by having to eat a dog on the first lap...

and of course a couple of the pro/expert dudes were the biggest wieners by protesting the dog eating (Pusses). i guess they felt this was the Honkeyfish world cup race.
great time had by all especially the kids hitting the pig pinata..

keep up the good work
cheers,
craig"

Now dont get me wrong- while I loathe the very idea of some fancy pants pro contesting a very simple rule of the race, (that is unless they are vegetarians of course) Id like to limit the use of the term 'puss' in reference to someone who is a gutless prima-donna, due to my affinity for that particular region of the anatomy. If anything, I feel as though that term should generally be used as high praise... But that might just be me.

Maggie found a shot on the Denver Post website that she forwarded on to us of a very distinguished Bobke wearing what some might refer to as the very height of fashion;

As I wrote to her, its good to see that Bobs head hasnt gotten too big for our headwear to accommodate.
And just so you know, if our old friend Bob reads this drivel that I post here on the Bummer Life, I most assuredly just signed myself up for an Indian burn-noogie combo the next time we cross paths.

-A funny story about Bob.. Many years ago, Robert Ives, The Berg and I piloted the Ventana van, or 'Old Blue' as it was referred to out to Las Vegas for the first Interbike dirt demo, when it was held at the original venue in Blue Diamond. Well, as tough as Old Blue was, it didnt have much going for it in the way of air conditioning and the three of us sweated it out, all thirteen hours through the desert when we finally arrived at the location of the demo. It was late, so we pulled out our sleeping pads, and made beds for ourselves on the trailer. We suddenly were overcome by mosquitoes, and with nothing but our own incredible body oder to defend ourselves, we were a bit outmatched by our parasitic adversaries. In a burst of ingenuity, Robert suggested that we slather ourselves with beer, as well as the contents of a little vile of sickeningly strong cologne that was found in a dark corner of the van.
Even though we could barely stand our own scent, it did the trick, and the bugs stayed away.
The following day we had to venture over to the convention hall and begin to set up the booth. If it was 120 outside, it had to be 130 inside and the cloud of toxic fumes hung over us like thunderheads packed to the gills with acid rain. It was then that Bob came by to say hello, stopping short and wrenching his face into one of disgust and horror. Rhetorically I asked "are you looking for trouble?" to which Bob replied, "if I was, Id say I probably came to the right place."
Roberts face lit up with pride, as he hunched over with both fists clinched and excitedly exclaimed in a forced whisper "Yeah! Bob Roll knows were trouble!"
To this day, Robert still counts this as one of his greatest accomplishments in cycling.

And seeing as I dont really have any notable accomplishments in cycling, for my part, Id be inclined to agree.

Well, that and the fact that I get periodic emails from The Snob;

"Came across this place in Ft. Greene, Brooklyn on Sunday. You'll be glad to know if you ever find yourself in that part of town you'll have a place to launder your leather underpants.

--BSNYC"

Its good to know that I have folks looking out for me, because as I previously mentioned, Ill be in New York in October, and to date, Ill be damned if I have been able to find anywhere on the Eastern Seaboard to wash my leather anythings...

Of course no sooner do I mention unmentionables, do I get an email from G concerning a bunch of folks whove apparently done away with theirs altogether;

"Stevil,
Last Weekend was Fremont Summer Solstice Parade here in Seattle. This pagan event is kicked off each year when brave, likely drunk, young cyclists strip down, paint up, and ride out. This event spawned my first Friday Hero nominee;

Bike Batman.

It was also the place to see, and be seen on a bike:
Proof numero uno, and
Proof numero dos.

Enjoy Summer,
Daper Lad Cycles."

It really does my heart some good to know that even The Dark Knight lets his boys out for air from time to time.

How much more of this can you all stand? If I know you like I think I know you, probably not much.
Have a good hump day. Its all downhill from here.