This thing just happened.

Over the past week my life kinda flipped around. I applied for the position of shop manager at the salt lake city bicycle collective in the face of several, um, shortcomings. In no particular order they would be: I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve even been there over the last year; absolutely zero managerial experience, and; I was pretty convinced that Jonathan (man-in-charge) disliked me enough to not even do an interview. I guess I was wrong. I just spent my first day trying to figure out where to start. It’s quite overwhelming:

The sweet sounds of summer

Shane (finally) uploaded the video of the van show. If you weren’t there you missed out. An astro van packed with kids – damn was it funcomfortable. James Miska, the acoustiMooks, and BnBH also played. Here’s my short little set:

Road Trip Dailies – Day 24 – 4 – Fuck, Yes!!!! at the Show in a Van in Salt Lake City, UT from Shane Becker on Vimeo.

I’ve been riding alot…

Kennecott

Pine Crest

Guardsman’s Pass

Mango Massacre

I almost died the other day.

My helmet, post-crash. On Friday, at about 30 mph, I decided to leave the pavement and take a dip in the millcreek stream. Head first. Somehow I’m still alive. It was the most surreal thing, realizing for only a split-second in mid-air that this just might be it. I was spared any great injury (my neck still hurts a bit and I have some scratches) and my bike was caught in a ridiculously gentle fashion by the bushes lining the stream bed. Anyway, I feel like I should start believing in god or something. I don’t know.

Also, I’m reading The Revolution of Everyday Life and it rules.

Lyrics

kick the gravel from the road
the cairn from it’s pedestal
that we might lose our way
and bury the interstates

pull the lines from silver clouds
the bricks from wide empty mouths
that we might learn to speak
in total silence

because if this house burns either way and
there is no hope for escape
just dance in the smoke filled rooms
till these lungs collapse

The Perks of Being a Hater of Fun

Last week there was another tall bike joust. It was organized mostly by Zed and yours truly. It was a pretty stressful thing to bottomline, and I’m left asking myself, “why did I bother?” Tall bike jousting and alternative bike culture in Salt Lake are largely, how do I put this? Oh, yeah. Fucking Stupid. These things, instead of being born of punk rock/DIY culture are just ripping it off. It’s hard to describe but I’d say it just all feels so sterile. The bike collective here is the same way, in my experience. There’s no underlining desire for mutual aid within the core group. They’re just… dudes. I could go on, really, but it just comes back around to the bike culture in general – seriously lacking some fucking anarchy. Conclusion: Fuck tall bikes and jousting and pretendo alt bike culture, lets do something rad instead.

Slug Mags article:

Robin’s Flyer from the time before last:

The art that became the flyer for the most recent joust:

this was probably the one reason i was glad to have undertaken the organizing. It took no less than 5 hours to draw this.

Road racing

I did my first race today, the RMR crit. Needless to say I lost, badly. I’m am currently exhausted in both body and mind, but it was fun, sort of. Part of the reason I lost so badly (which included being lapped by the peleton) was that the organizer thought I didn’t have a license and should have been racing in the lower “D” category. Well, I SHOULD have been racing in the Ds but at the advice of others I thought that I could roll with the big boys. Anyway… so the organizer called me back after the Cs started and I had to quickly explain to him that I was in fact licensed, then a painful catch-up sprint to the group. The other reason I lost badly is that I am a spazz, and it turns out that riding like one is terribly inefficient. At least I didn’t crash.

The one thing I learned today, which I should have already known, is that even amateur racing is very much a rich man’s sport. I was most definitely the only person there on a steel frame, and my bike had, quite easily, 20 years on any other one. I don’t know how I feel about that just yet.

BUT! the bike I was riding is a recent addition to my family of bikes. It’s a Fuji Opus III, with quad-butted tubing, chromed fork crown, superbe dropouts, and some pretty sweet black anodized componentry. Nothing really amazing, but hella stylin’.

Tonite We’re Gonna Fuck Shit Up

Something

lyrics to a new song:

nothing means anything and
everything is dying
or already dead
like the thought inside my head that says
unversal truth is just a dirty lie
from here we redefine
friendships and the summer could last forever
if we want it to
losing sleep to our best laid plans
our hands held in a white-knuckle grip
who needs friends with accomplices like this
let go I will catch you when you fall (x3)

absent of purpose in these
fleeting seconds floating by the way
things we make and lay to waste
can be defeating, inspiring,
just a blank canvas to write on
or burn in creative fire
just trust your every desire
as long as you are alive
browbeaten but still standing strong with
hands held in fist to the sky
who needs cliques with crime waves like this?
let know i will catch you when you fall (x3)