No excuses, ifs, ands, or butts.
After coming home from this weekend’s festivities in Colorado, the first thing I wanted to do was sleep;
Then the second thing I wanted to do was also sleep.
But I’m a person who is committed to what they do, if for no other reason than because Monday morning would’t be the same for like, one or two people if they couldn’t waste at least five minutes of company time here on the site. So it is for them that I put off sleeping for a little while longer to break down the skinny.
To catch people up, this weekend caught a meeting of the minds, so to speak, as Swobo shipped Geno and Jennifer from Minneapolis’ One On One Bicycle Studio as well as myself and my life partner Demonika to their home base of Ft. Collins Colorado. Their reasons for doing this weren’t immediately clear at the outset, but as the weekend progressed, they became more so.
The first layer of the matter’s meat was a weekly group ride that leaves from the Swobo HQ and meanders on an array of country roads, rolling bike paths and whatever random trails we could find. A dark and ominous looking front chased the small group of us out across the planes and then mocked us as we were heading back into it, but we payed it little mind, because we’re professionals;
We arrived safely at various shelters just as the rain began coming down and then headed out for a late night feast of Mexican food at a local staple called The Rio. I don’t remember what I ate, but I’m sure it was delicious. What I do remember was a treacherous wet floor in the restaurant’s entry way which nearly claimed the lives of me, as well as a ton of stiletto wearing college girls. If I died at that point, at least I’d be in well-dressed company.
We pulled the plug on the night and went to our respective corners to sleep it off.
Saturday was the big day. Gene and I peeled off early on in order to solve a few of the world’s ills, and check out some of the local sights, the raddest of which was this;
We were climbing all over it taking pictures, looking in the windows, and taking note of the array of empty beer cans in the bed.
It’s not been since I was a little kid that I was so enamored with a vehicle.
Eventually we returned to our compatriots feeling refreshed and with the help of our hosts, jumped headlong into dialing in our new team kits;
The big event, and one of the primary reasons we were in town, was Swobo’s Folsom Fist Fight Fracas;
This was actually based on an idea I had back when I was in the company’s employ, which in turn was based on a fiasco that took place at the very first Homie Fall Fest I ever attended. My initial idea was a relay race through the old Santa Cruz Bikes warehouse complex in which Swobo used to be located. Four teams of four would derby and battle, and skid, and tackle their way to a hopeful victory. Sadly, this idea never came to fruition under my watch, but Swobo’s new boss-man was so taken with it that he decided to host a number of them around the country, which will be happening over the summer.
This past weekend’s event was the kick off however, and we did our best to make sure it made an impression.
Heading over to the site fashionably late, we were guided by Amigo intern, Walker Hefe;
Pic By Geno
As the crowds began to swell, Gene did what he does best which was initiate a group of virgins to the finer point of a derby, and ultimately plan the details of the day’s race. I did what I do best, which was to be Flava Flav to his Chuck D, and make people pout. Kegs finally arrived, and with them, the numbers of attendees grew. As Black Sunday Social ripped through their set, the masses got warmed up, and prepared to spill blood;
Inspired by ‘The Thing’, Ben struck a pose.
Over the course of the day, we enjoyed the company of 150 or so like-minded folks making their way through the festivities, and made a few new friends, as well as enjoyed the pleasure of getting reacquainted with old ones;
For those who don’t recognize the fellow on the left, that’s Detroit DaveO, and he is an absolute king among men. He had a hand in the launch of a couple of small companies you might have heard of, the lesser among them was one called Rock Shox. He’s as gifted a cyclist as any I’ve ever had the pleasure to ride with, and has a gift with fashion like a real live Pippy Longstocking. As it was described one time many years ago Dave has the unique ability to pull off all of the fashion do’s and don’ts at once, a knack which he still possesses to this day.
Anyhoo, the evening continued;
Finally, with darkness having settled, and the kegs dried out, the call was made to flit away to find sustenance;
It was about at this point when my interest in taking any more photos petered out, and my interest in putting as many slices of cheese pizza into my face peaked.
With ragged throats and heads full of the sights and sounds of the season’s first full-blown Folsom Fist Fight Fracas, the group slapped hands and went in our varying directions.
As the plans develop, and like I said at the outset of today’s post, more are slated to happen across the country. San Francisco, Chicago, and Minneapolis are names I recall hearing, so keep your ears to the rails for more news. Certainly should anything cross my radar, I’ll do my damnedest to spill the beans here.
So until next time, or that time, I will return to the comfort and luxury of my formal sleeping suit.
Radness indeed. I would love to see something like this down here in Atlanta or Asheville.
Seems to me the Folsom Fist Fight Fracas should come to Folsom, shouldn’t it?
I have some old Swobo t-shirts I still wear.
As a longtime Swobo fan, I’m stoked they moved to my hometown and stoked that these guys do not suck like when Santa Cruz owned the brand. This event was one of the best times I’ve had in Fort Collins in a long time. Thanks for coming and being a part of it. Finally got to ride an Accomplice…rad bike.
a headquake commission has been found
Butt what if I had an excuse?
It makes me feel good to know that giving the finger is becoming more accepted as a friendly salutation. I once had a friend who asked me what was wrong when upon leaving I didn’t tell them to “Feck off”
I don’t care that the Swobo I own is a Crosby or that when I bought it on eBay for 250 bucks it showed up in a Santa Cruz box from some rando. Best 250 bucks I’ve ever spent. (Yes, sliding droputs, I know, I know). It’s a bike I have that I can ride SS to and from work, and for the price of a cassette rear wheel, a thumbie, a full housing run, a derailleur and a couple of zip ties, I can run it 1X10 when I’m in the mood.
Dannie Nall, ladies and gentlemen, Dannie Nall.