My buddy Tom Danger was over today and saw my bike sitting disassembled in the corner. It was still covered in packing material and he asked me: “Dirty, are you falling more than normal? Why the fuck is your bike wrapped in foam?” Funny story about that. Let me tell ya.
I was traveling a few weeks back. Cruising across I-70 after the Whiskey Off-road, trying to get to Denver in a hurry. When I caught some tire trouble around Grand Junction. I wasn’t too upset. I like me some Junction. I track down a tire shop and drop the car off and the man behind the counter says it’ll be about three hours. Perfect. I’ll go for a little street shred on my new Dirt Jumper. Three hours of curb hopping and skids later, I get the call that my tires are road worthy again. I pedal up to the garage, grab the keys and speed off on my way.
I made it just over Vail Pass when I get a call from the tire shop. “Hey man, were you riding a little mountain bike? Because it’s still sitting in front of the shop”
Oh shit. Too many things on my mind and in too much of a hurry. I had managed to drive off without my bike. Now I was hours down the road with some pretty important places to be. What a dumbass move. I messaged all my Grand Junction friends and was instantly put to ease when multiple homeys said they would go grab it for me. Rob-O was clutch with the bike rescue and Alex at CBB Fruita was kind enough to wrap it in foam and ship it back to me. Thanks, guys.
I might actually be crashing more than normal, but that’s how my bike ended up in my living room wrapped in foam. Cheers to good friends saving your ass…even when you are a complete dumbass!