Actually rode a bike today. For nearly two hours. Now I’m ready to party my ass off like my name is Tom Boonen. Too hot in Phoenix at the moment to do much in the way of mountain biking – this is road bike weather. I’ll stick to pavement and higher speeds to keep the air flowing over my largeness. I can’t imagine sweating it out at low speeds in those still pockets of heat that wait to trap the unwary and under-form. I’ll leave that to others for now.
JHK has a 21 pound 29er. Pics at velonews.com. Pretty light and all, and full race. I think I’m more of an XT kind of guy. I wonder what this weights – voodoocycles.net/…aizan? I had a Aizan for awhile. Now my wife rides it. Nice bike. I’ve got a big ass Kona too. Steel, rigid, single. No idea what it tips the scales at. But I can tell you that it rides like a dream. A dream, I tell ya. Kona still loves the big guys with off the peg 22″ framesets. I wonder what this weighs – konaworld.com/…king kahuna? I wonder if weight even matters? If it did matter, maybe I’d eat better and actually try to weigh less myself?
Went up a road called Mohave on the north side of Mummy Mountain twice in the last week. Used to hit that one in a 53 x 15 or 17 with my man Jim back in the day. Now I take it in a 39. At the top, where I used to end up in the 21 or maybe the 23 on a hard day, I am now in the 25 or 27. Take note the low end of my cassette has gone from a 23 to a 27. The years, they have not been kind to me.
Anyway, saw this total clown car last week and wished I had taken a picture of it. Words alone to not do justice. So this week, wouldn’t you know, I made sure I had my phone out and I snapped a few pics as I pedaled by. And it gave me an excuse to throw in the towel and pedal real slow. Hey, this is about art!
When I first saw it last week, I thought maybe some white trash dude went all 4×4 on his domestic sedan. I’d seen that before one, a real class move. Usually it’s dropping the panels on to a Bronco frame, and man is it ugsville.
Notice he’s parked behind a full size Ford F-150. Should give you some idea how friggin’ jacked up this thing is.
But, no, he ain’t clearing a big ‘ol set ‘o thirty five by twelve fifties… This ain’t some swamper rig. And this cat is beyond simply rolling dubs. Dubs are so 2005. This kid is rolling a Box. What? How? Seems it’s a 3″ lift kit and 24s, 26s or 28s. Really. These guys will help you achieve your donk/box/bubble dreams. More how spend your hard earned ends here: rides-mag.com. And I just thought I was hallucinating from the heat…
Shit looks like a matchbox car. But what do I know; I’m old and out of touch. What was it the fixie kids said about me? Oh yeah, I am “no longer relevant”. Have fun skidding and pretending you’re employed as a bike messenger.
Some guys have all the luck…
Subject: awright in chang Ping
I had my China cherry popped onna girls bike with under inflated tires no less. It was fucking great. I was feeling “the urge to roll” and the dark don’t scare me..Traffic at midnight is crazy as hell. Lotsa greasy good smelling food everywhere. I am rolling around gawking, avoiding crater size potholes, weaving through pedestrians, insane taxis, bike taxis, motorcycle taxis, construction sites, parking lots, salons, diners and a place that makes the biggest fucking gaudy chandeliers you ever seen.
Shit, the Fucking hand brakes are reversed, I keep grabbing my front brake with my right hand while turning and ugh, it takes getting used to… I go for a sprint down a dark wide street lined with dimly lit super local funky places to eat. I threw a chain, and a’course there’s a chain guard to insure that I am covered in chain shit. I try and score a bottle of water and some tissues from a little store… The locals don’t see much white people so they stare and I hear “lau white” being muttered. Teenage boys come to see me up close. Yeah, I’m famous. I move on to the bizzier part of town. I got security all over me when I enter an upscale parking lot. Apparently riding a bike while looking like a dirt bag is a sure way to get hassled by rent a cops. I simply smile and politely ask them to fuck off. I take a left and a right and end up at a plaza that is nothing but dozens of open air BBQ stalls, kind of like a giant smoking swap meet filled with cold beer, bar stools at tall tables and anything you could imagine throwing on a grill. Pretty girls rush up and grab my bike and steer me into their tables. Rolling again, I ride down the red light street. A dark alley filled with cute young chickens who call to me frantically when they see my face. Sorry ladies, not tonight…. somehow, it all seems more innocent and acceptable, not menacing at all.
Time for a shower and some sleep
Yeah. Not much add after that one save his second correspondence.
Subject: Camo Kilt
I bought my 1st Chinese bike. I was gonna score one of those 28″ straight bar Chinese jobs. However they are so fuking piley straight out the box that I couldn’t do it. They don’t even ride straight for fucks sake. I told boss bike lady to throw a leg over and give that bent thing a whirl, she said she can’t even ride. That settled it. I went to a better bike shop. I got me a 26 single speed comfort bike instead. Luminum frame, fenders, chain guard, rear rack, shimano hub rear brake and a cool little rear rack. Costed me 500 yaun about $65 us. Got a u lock and bell thrown in for free. Also there was cute little chicken working at the bike shop that wants to learn Engrish. I might just teach her a thing or two. She had style, attitude, tools, good looks and smelled like armpits. I am in heaven!
Last night I rode around, found a place to eat. I came back out and my bike was gone. I axed security WTF??!?! They had picked up my ride and moved it into storage for some reason. The fucking fucks… I don’t thing they like bikes in front of their stores, it implies something they don’t want to be associated with…
I need a nap.
Ah, the good life. She does call. And now available in twelve ounce cans.
Someone just sent this to me and perhaps you’ve already seen it, but just in case you haven’t I thought I would share it with you. Enjoy, even if it is the second time around the block.
I guess that explains why I haven’t gone to any of my high school reunions – I couldn’t find a hot enough stripper who wasn’t in serious need of a shave.
Not sure what that says about me. Whatever it is, perhaps it’s better off remaining unsaid.by