Seriously, this guy bugs the holy hell out of me.
Every time he fist bumps someone or mentions ‘flavor town’, I die a little on the inside.
Thank you for letting me get that off my chest.
Now let’s get on with the getting on, shall we?
I understand there is a bit of excitement these days surrounding a type of bicycle riding called ‘cyclocrossing’. Moreover, there are some hearty souls who appreciate an aspect of cyclocrossing in which they have no gears on their cyclocrossing bicycles. This is often referred to as ‘single speed cyclocrossing‘.
There is also a company called Sizemore Bicycles (no association with Tom Sizemore, as far as I know), and you can tell the difference between the two in that Tom Sizemore is the one digging through his own excrement this very moment looking for drugs.
Similarly, Sizemore Bicycles is digging through the excrement of the internet looking for people who would like an inexpensive custom single speeding cyclocrossing bike. 9 (nine) hundred bills for a custom frame isn’t nothing to make a sneeze at, so assuming that Sizemore’s dance card didn’t fill up within minutes of making this announcement, maybe you’ll get lucky.
Speaking of which, I understand there is a big single speeding cyclocrossing race set to take place in two week’s time in the city of San Francisco;
It’s sure to be full of wacky costumes, and beer drinking, as I hear those are two things that single speedingers like. There will also be a bunch of serious, non-costumed single speedingers who will be there who might end up fighting the costumed single speeding cyclocrossingers in a brawl that will make the fights in West Side Story look like musical numbers;
I’ve been desperately looking for something to do instead of attending the race, because I have a phobia of both confrontation, and rhythmic snapping, but so far I’ve come up dry.
As a high powered corporate entity, I’ve also contributed an array of goodies from my All Hail The Black Market product line, as well as a selection of items I found around the confines of my home and sock drawer. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll go just simply in order to take some of that loot home with you.
In news of stuff I don’t know what to do with, an individual who goes by The Tashkent Error sent me the following video via Twitter. They mentioned that it might make for a nice ‘One For The Weekend’, but it’s even a bit more epic than that. Note, it’s not for the faint of heart or the correct of politicalness;
I like to think it was a scene from ‘West Side Story’ that maybe ended up on the cutting room floor.
Back, this past June 25th, I organized an observance of canned beer called The Wizard Staffs Around the World Celebration, the clear winner of which was Dan from Shifter Bikes over there in Melbourne, Australia;
Anyway, (a different) Daniel sent me a photo of the Portland East art duo Broken Crow creating a tribute to both PBR and Wizard Staffs on the outside wall of Grumpy’s Bar and Grill;
I like to think in some round about sort of way I might have had something to do with the inspiration for that piece, but I know that’s probably not the case.
In news of ‘I Told You I Wasn’t Lying’, Joe from Soulrun got in contact with some info that began putting my mind at ease;
“Stevil – Oh my damn… the bandit was worth the wait. Got it in the mail last night and rode in it today. Laura and I spent the day getting rad on singletrack.
At this point I am sure I sounded like a broken record who fled to Mexico with everyone’s money, but the proof is in the pudding. The jerseys are finally landing with all intended recipients and though I’ve yet to see mine, the verdict is that they are epically awesome.
I will have a few extras to sell, and OneOn One Studio in Portland East ordered a run as well should you be feeling the pain of kicking yourself for not ordering one to begin with.
Finally in closing and in news of bicycle related athletic pursuits, Brian Vernor, Mr. Blacksocks and I were able to join forces over the weekend and partake in a bit of spirited speedcycling, which for a time looked like this;
Pedaling in perfect unison.
Eventually, as is my standard practice, as the climb began and the pace intensified, I was left fumbling with my camera, and one hand on the bars;
It was a crisp day, to be sure. The kind that finds me unable to make proper clothing decisions, and continually running back inside for a change of jacket or hat, or shoe covers. But with a bite in the air, and a blanket of grey stretched out over the horizon, it made for a perfect day in which to enjoy the loop which I have affectionately deemed ‘Little Belgium’. One clothing choice I had neglected to make was the Luchador mask, as seen on a lone farm worker;
It’s clear to anyone who was a child of the ’70s (except for those who insultingly insist on making ICP references) that this laborer is the Peter Criss to my God of Thunder;
Though a Mexican wrestling mask might be a pretty good choice for driving a tractor around a maze of farm roads, it’s maybe not the most efficient piece of cycling clothing one could choose. Then again, when taking part in some single speed styled cyclocrossing or fist bumping to flavor town, such an item almost seems to be a requirement.