It’s officially Drunkcyclist day! Today is the day to go for a ride, sip a beverage (or 10) and celebrate your homies. This day started out as a memorial for our fallen friend, Kyle. Then last year, Snakehawk asked if we could switch it to a celebration instead of remembrance. When I thought about, I realized it had already become that for me. I made sure every year that I rode a little and sipped a little more. Some years I would be drunk as a skunk in my favorite bar. Or there was one time I was injured pretty bad and I could only manage to pedal down to my neighborhood park and drink a couple bombers of Newcastle out of a paper bag. But most years found me on South Mountain sitting on a rock with my flask where it all started. Everyone loves a party, and so Drunkcyclist Day was born.
I’m about 2000 miles away from my beloved South Mountain these days, but I’m still gonna do what needs to be done. It’s supposed to rain like crazy here in Asheville, so I think I’ll just build a big ass fire in my yard and jump over it too many times with my singlespeed. Seems like a good plan to me.
It’s a crazy time to be alive. The world has seems to have lost its goddamn mind. Violence, ignorance and hate are the new normal. Just in the past month, two people I know have been murdered and one has been hit by a car and killed. Now I’m no peace lovin’ hippy by any stretch of the definition. But I think it’s time to chill. Let’s all take a day to just ride our bikes, maybe get a little drunk and smile. Let’s do it for our homies that are no longer here. Let’s do it for the friends we have yet to meet.
There are no politics in booze. There is no hate in bikes. There are only the relationships we have and the mark we leave on this world. Have a kick-ass #DrunkcyclistDay! I can’t wait to see what everyone does.
Below are the words I promised myself I would post every year on this date. It is a somber, life changing tale. But I don’t want to forget the impact it had on me. I remember where I was when I wrote it. I had just snuck into a random hotel in Mexico to use their business center. I was on bike tour and I couldn’t shake these thoughts about my friend. Big Jonny had given me a voice on this page and I wanted to use it to actually SAY something, not just talk about things. Doesn’t matter if you read it or not, but it’s down there if you are so inclined.
When I meet people from the DC family out on the trail, the one question I get the most is “How do you know Big Jonny and how did you end up writing for the site?”. I am reminded of the story around this time every year, and today seems like the best day to share it.
I always try to adhere to two rules when writing a post. No politics and nothing too heavy. I am going to have to make an exception here and get a little serious.
I have known Jonny for about thirteen years now. Before that, I was just a fan of the site and only knew of BJ through our fantastic bike community here in Arizona. But I never really hung out with the guy. It isn’t hard to keep tract of the years we have known each other.
Thirteen years ago our friend died.
His name was Kyle, and if you have been reading this site for a while you may have stumbled across his name. We were only close acquaintances and riding buddies at best. I had never met his family, knew his birthday or any of the things close friends know. But the conversations we had and the rides we shared make me proud to call him a friend. He was an original member of the Drunkcyclist crew, and he was a hell of a guy.
When he passed, you could feel the sadness move through our cycling community like a tidal wave. We were grieving and we were going to handle it the only way we knew how. Ride and drink. The call went out over this web site and via word of mouth that there was going to be a memorial gathering. Leave whenever you want, ride whatever you want. Just get to the top of South Mountain. I met up with Jonny and a small group of like minded vagrants at the trailhead and we rode the National trail up the hill. We told stories of our friend and we talked about his favorite trail that we just happen to be riding on. It was never discussed but it seemed like we were all riding at a parade pace, a slow march in memorial to our fallen friend. It was one of the most memorable rides of my life.
When we reached Dobbin’s Lookout it was an amazing sight to be seen. There were people convening from everywhere. Mountain bikers coming up trails, roadies coming up the road, and non riders in their cars. I liken it to when you see one ant on the sidewalk then your eyes focus and you notice that there are now 50 ants. People were coming from all different directions as if they were materializing out of the desert.
Waiting for us at the top was Kyle’s family, a minister, and a keg of beer. The family said some words and the minister facilitated some amazing story telling. We shared stories for who knows how long. We laughed about our friend’s shenanigans and grown men cried. As I looked around at all these people that came here to pay homage to their friend, there was one common theme. He was just a really nice guy who would do anything for his friends. My thoughts turned to my own impact in this world. How many people would show up if I died tomorrow? Would anybody say these amazing things about me?
At that time, I was a broke, angry, and out of shape loser settling into my position under the bell curve of society. I was living beyond my means and talking shit like it was my job. In short, I wasn’t a very nice person.
This moment was a tipping point in my life. That evening, as I sat on a rock overlooking the city, everything changed. It may sound over simplified and cliche, but that day I vowed two things. To live my dreams every day and to just be a nice person.
Fortunately, I have kept in touch with Jonny over the years and it has eventually brought me here to you guys. If you have a DC jersey you will notice a name and some dates on the back. This has been the story of that man. If you are in ever in Phoenix and find yourself riding up South Mountain road, look for the little memorial across from the ranger station. Stop and pour a little water out for the cactus that’s there. I do it every time.
Our friend was only around for a short while but his impact will be felt for a lifetime. Make time today to go ride, to think about your friends, and to appreciate life.
–Thanks for the life lessons, brother. See you at the end of my ride.
“There are no politics in booze. There is no hate in bikes.” I just drank to that. FTW and long live Kyle and all our homies. Much respect from Stuttgart, Germany.
Putting some Bulleit’s in my head for Kyle.
I get on every year to read this! Thanks for the tribute!
Rock on Dirty!
Your original post hasn’t lost a step. Please continue to re-post it annually. It is more than a eulogy.
a little late to the party. but here nonetheless.