Early Sunday morning, I was sitting on a couch in a flea market/workshop/ping pong emporium where Stinner Frameworks had thrown a hootenanny to which Dirty and I were invited by some Lebowski-style nihilists on our hotel floor. Dirty was wearing a fur coat. Wilco was playing from a boombox. I looked at my phone. It read 1:59 a.m.
Took a long, unnecessarily heavy pull from my cup of beer. Phone clock jumped to 3 a.m., like a jaywalker shooting a traffic gap. Fuck. I reached for the whiskey in my camera bag. Eventually hopped on my Kona and slow rolled back to the hotel, through the empty lobby, silent save for the drone of escalators, into the elevator and back to the room. I found a High Life, blasted some Run the Jewels. Then I woke up on Dirty’s airline bike bag, wounded soldier inches away.
Good party, Stinner.
Below is more of what we enjoyed at the North American Handmade Bike Show, a spectacle that commands healthy marveling at the manifestations of frame builder imaginations. Metal, wood, carbon, leather. It was all there. Most of our cycling industry media brethren have covered what matters from NAHBS, have interviewed the fabrication aces, and expounded on the latest, greatest, and perhaps that which we’ll never see again.
But first, an exposé of a gluteul sort. Our asses are an ancillary but no less important anatomical factor when we hop on a bike. Without your ass, you don’t bike (unless it’s one of these weird no-seat bikes).
We present to you: The Asses of NAHBS.
And now for some non-ass content.
If you live in a state that borders Indiana, you know that driving through it to get to another state is kinda like being at a concert where you’re stuck standing behind some really tall dude. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Alright, maybe I’ll go get a beer and come back? Maybe he’ll shift a few feet over and I’ll be able to see the stage?
Shit. He’s still there. That was my drive back.
Thanks for the bourbon and bikes, Louisville. You throw a hell of a party.
Next: NAHBS 2016: Sacramento.by
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Your inability to see anything in Indiana must be from your taste in craft beer.
^^ I didn’t know High Life was a craft beer. You might be onto something.
Always enjoyed Upland, though.
Mike Sinyard not there?
I’d like me some beer. High Life, lowlife or other. Sadly, health issues have placed alky-lol off my list.
Oh well, tip a tall one for me.
Mootses are yummy, plain and simple.
My 29er came with Schwalbe tars, apparently defective. Schwalbe replaced the first set with another apparently defective set, then told me to fuck off. Out of spite, I sold my set of Winter Marathons. Boy, I’ll bet that showed ’em.
I made tons of money in Indiana, mostly at automotive tier-2s around Fort Wayne. I presently hold one of the largest and most valuable collections of Indiana State Quarters on the west coast.
Mikey, I’ve seen more of Indiana than most states since I drive through it so often. Can’t speak for the Schwalbes since I’ve never ridden them, but they’re all about the Procore to keep your tire from rolling off the rim when it hopefully doesn’t go flat.
Mr. Wrighteous— you speak sense, sir. Indiana is an okay state, as long as you don’t EVER get involved in politics or the daylight savings time issue. And their state quarter is the bad-assest of all, with a fuckin’ 800 HP open-wheel formula race car on it. IMS is hallowed ground; I’d like to make it to the MotoGP event there some day.
Hallowed ground, indeed. It’d make a hell of a velodrome.
Why was I wearing a fur coat?
My paternal homeland is Indiana. I’ve been there a few times. Nice State. The roads are a tad flat but at my age I like flat roads. Just not flat woman or flat beers.
Just stay out of his hometown…..Muncie. Total shithole.
Wish I could find that classic skit by abbott and costello about Muncie but it’s not showing up on the youtube.
I moved to Indiana two years ago. When people ask me what Indiana is like, I say, “very good at mediocrity” and it’s true.
There are nice hills in the southern part for road and mtb. There are maybe three ‘good’ restaurants in the whole state. There is supposedly a brewery that makes a good IPA in the state, but you can never find said IPA anywhere, ever.
Señor Wrighteous should check out the Major Taylor Velodrome. It’s a fun place to be in the summer, especially on Thursday nights (Cat5/Cat4 races are the best, imo).
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Late to the party as usual. As a Pennsylvania refugee currently residing in Indiana, I can attest to it’s mediocrity. The HMBA however does put some effort into local trails and events. If it is IPA you want find Upland’s Coast buster or in the NW corner of the state visit Three Floyds.