Posts Tagged ‘Bikes’

2012-72: Cuyuna Weekender

Wednesday, October 17th, 2012

1rd: Musics

Before we get down to business, we should cover over this:

Nice to see Mike Noyes get the male and female lead in this one. Tyler Perry would be stoked on his skills. Or Eddie Murphy, or Martin Lawrence. Anyway, there is some ending of The Dark Crystal shit going on. But with fewer Skeksis.

2st: Wolves

We’re going to get to it soon enough, but I also want to address the fact right now, people in Wisconsin are legally hunting wolves. WTF does someone do with a wolf carcass? Not too many are eating that. I have no clue what to do with a dead wolf. Supposedly there is a wolf problem in Northern Wisconsin. Seems like we got that one backwards.

If you care to, please cruise over to this dude’s blog. Read up and dwell upon these animals being killed strictly for sport.

Part 3nd: Bikes

College cronies and I have been trying to make a bike trip happen all season. Finally, I pulled the trigger and set a date. No one else was able to go except for the Goose. That dude has heaps of free time because he has no house, no kids, no pets, his family was killed on an African safari gone bad, and he tells women he’s really not into labeling their situation so he has no qualms with kicking a lady out of bed to go ride bikes.

Judge the guy all you want, I was more than happy to have the company on this trip.

We were headed to Cuyuna Country State Recreational Area in Crosby, Minnesota. That place is way north. It was like a $100 trip in Gojira. And when you’re driving north from Minneapolis there are a few things you can count on seeing, like Arby’s restaurants, places selling ice houses (to sit in whilst fishing, not the beer), and lakes. There are also some things you never really think you’re going to see. That list could be pretty much endless, but one thing you need to take off  is “a boat hitting a car.”

So this is how they do it up there.

Wrap your brain around whatever happened there.

We made it to Crosby and I have to be honest with you, they could use some more signage around the town. We had the Googs telling us we were within like 2000ft of where we wanted to be, but we couldn’t find it. We stopped at gas station to ask directions and the teenage girl behind the counter was all like “Oh I’ve heard of that place, but I’ve never been there.”

“Girl, it’s woods with trails through it, really fucking close to where you work. Where do you go to underage drink after curling matches or on your smoke breaks?”

Eventually we found the campground, set up the tent and got ready to ride bikes.

The connector trail runs right through the campground, which is amazingly convenient. We hopped on and in about 5 minutes found ourselves on paved trails. Fuck this. We ended up riding that paved trail for 4 miles, cursing the entire time. I couldn’t believe I drove 8 hours for this shit. Then we found it a little trail, well hidden, that dipped off to the right. From that point on it was on. Super fast rolling trails along old mining pits, solid climbs and great down hills with turns and berms and fun shit on the way down. Not that it’s important but I also found the iron-laden, red soil kind of cool.

We made it back to the campsite fully pleased with the choice to come here and ready for the Sunday rides. Goose and I are excellent outdoorsmen, so we at our dinner of thai curried tofu and brussel sprouts strait outta the Whole Foods deli containers. For anyone wondering how the 3+ months of vegan is treating me, I also ate apples, bananas and cashews. I’m really feeling good about this life choice. We all gotta have one thing we’re feeling good about, right?

After food, we had drinks and more drinks and went to sleep. I awoke when daylight started filling the tent. I shuffled about in the sleeping bag to pull out my phone to check the temp. 38 degrees. Cold night to be in a tent. I look over at Goose, who has stripped down to boxers and a tee shirt and is sleeping with his arms across his chest for warmth. I should also mention he’d kicked his sleeping bag down by his feet and was directly on the floor of the tent.

As I’m looking at him thinking dude must be freezing, his sleeping body shivers. I’d never seen a sleeping person shiver before. It was funny. Being the good friend I am, I pushed his sleeping bag further away from him.

Sunday we headed back to where we found the goods an were ready to ride. Then we ran into some dude on a fat bike who was telling us about one of the local trails, Sand Hog being named an IMBA legitimized flow trail. Capital B bikes. He told us there were only four in the world. Then he proceeded to tell us to go elsewehere. Not in a surf nazi way, but more like, “Listen you need to go ride this other shit. Sand Hog is fun, but this section is the real deal.”

So we went over to ride the Yaakee zone and it was great. All the trails are loops so you take off and return to one parking lot on every trail. We found some good tech trails and a lot of great areas to just zip through. Plus, I almost hit a dog. He was just running feral on the trail. I came around a corner and he was coming at me. Complete disregard for the one-way signs. Almost took me off the bike.

There are a few pics floating about and I found a clip from the bobsled trail that doesn’t so it justice, but lets you know a little bit of what is up. But belieber me, it was rad. Gonna get a weekend set up for next year too. Maybe more than two of us will go.

This is a good sign to see

As you can gather from my front wheel this does not end well.

This video is over a year old. It’s still rad, just not as rad as it is today.

2012-67: Fuck, I need to Dump GoDaddy

Tuesday, September 11th, 2012

Before we get started, you should cruise on over to MarijuanaDeathSquads.com and get Tamper. Disable. Destroy. For free. It’ll be downloaded by the time you get down reading this crap. It’s good. I promise. I’m not always a liar.

Reader: Rumorator, What the fuck you been up to?

Rumorator: Housework, word work, staring at my green beans being a total pussy.

Reader: Fucking LAAAME. Imma go read the entries over on Fried Rats.

For real though, let’s talk about some shit. Let’s talk about the fact I now own a ladder, and have done things like “cleaned rain gutters” and “removed fence posts.” Shit, it was just the other day I said to my boss, “Boss, I think I’m done spending the big money for a while.” Then he laughed and laughed.

I’m also looking at having two mega-trees removed because I think they’re dying. And because they’re evergreens. Evergreens are the trashy broads of the tree game. They’re easy to get your hands on, they don’t really let anything else grow up around them, they’re constantly dropping needles, and once a year we invite them into our homes, dress them up and toss them out after the family has left. HEY-O. Jokes.

You know who is way better at telling jokes? Kyle Kinane. That dude was in Madison telling jokes and killing crowds all weekend. I guess he sold out every show he did, so that’s fucking rad for him. He also had fellow bearded man, Dave Stone with him. He was a very funny man as well. And I apologize for not remembering the MC’s name (Edit: Jessie Baltes), but he was really good, though he only had a moustache.

There was an outside chance of bikesterism with Kinane this weekend, but it wasn’t meant to be. Nonetheless, I rode bikes solo. I guess you could say I’m a lone wolf. A tiger, stalking through Siberian woods. I am the sperm whale of weekend biking—out there solo, large, white, head full of spermaceti, just wrecking shit when I breach—mmmmmmrrrrrrrrmmmmmmSPLASH.

I was riding at Cam-rock, A place I had been avoiding because I was afraid it was more xc-ski trails than bike trails. But I was way wrong. It’s only 8 miles of trails, but it’s certainly enough to keep you busy for a couple hours. Tons of places to get the bike off the ground, if only for a few feets, and then there’s some of this shit:

C’mon señor? You’re really just going put that there and be all like “DO IT.” Fuck it, I had to do a couple walkovers.

Fair warning: Cam-Rock is in GlassedEye country. Trust no one.

You ready to time travel?

Last weekend, I decided to take the fixer out for a spin. I was gonna pop off an easy 14 miles and had my turn around point set up. The thing is, I fucking hate out and back routes. So I got to my turn around point and decided to run the full lake loop. 23 miles lets do it. Who needs water?

Not the smartest thing I have every done. The Lake Mendota lake loop is so poorly marked, it’s under construction, and for part of it, it’s mega-cluttered by University students.

It was miserable.

I think we need to go back, even further in time:

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Fuck it. Just walk.

2012-56: The Parking Lot Hustle

Wednesday, June 27th, 2012

I park my bike in a basement. The bike rack I use is usually empty except for one other kinda-flesh-toned bike that looks like Eva should be riding it. And by that I mean it looks mildly Dutch. There are three or four other racks, not that many people in the building and no one is really expecting the guys from the gaming design joint to ride bikes, so space is far from limited. But lately there has been a lot more activity on my rack.

This increased activity has caused two disturbances in my day. First off, I feel this need to start locking up my bike. Yeah that’s right, for the past year I haven’t even been carrying a bike lock with me. Just rawdogging on the rack. Fuck it, you know. I knew the crowd that camped out down there. It was a risk I was willing to take. How much is it worth for me to not schlep a bike lock around. Or to spend 30 seconds locking up the rig. Apparently about $650. Or at least that is what I was willing to risk. It’s like how you drop the insurance on your cell phone after your contract is half over.

But now I’ve blown my spot. You guys wanna know where you can steal bikes? I got some insider info. Reminds me of the time The Times did a travel report on Bayfield. The reporter was reporting about the small town-ness. The folksy-ness. The old salt, seaside-ness coupled with midwesterly humbility. About how Bayfield is a place where people still wave at neighbors and don’t lock their doors. Then BOOM a week later, a mega-rash of petty robberies. I am to the Times as my bike parking zone is to Bayfield.

The other disturbance has been people parking in my spot. End of the rack, towards the west end of the building. That was my spot. The other day I was grabbing my bike, and I ran into the guy who was in my unofficial spot. So I dropped the small talk, “so you’re the one parked in my spot” on him.
His response in non-native English made me feel like an asshole. Then I had to explain to him that it was a joke.
Now I walk down there and see this:

Dude backed it in. He parked his bike getaway style. Juvenile. He calling me big daddy.

Methodology of this reminds me of those dudes who drove trucks  during the grammar school days. I kind of grew up in the center of trucksterism. It’s certainly an -ism that has recently flared up in me. Dudes had trucks. These was dudes who came from some pretty brokedown shit, but they had some big trucks. Lift kits and chrome tips. Just the strait-up adolescent proxy of flopping your cock out and asking the art teacher to measure it. Dudes was always parked getaway style. And I had my Volkswagen station with trigger finger door handles that never worked right in the winter and the stereo that could be turned on without the keys or the cars being on, a fatal flaw for the battery, and given this you’d think I’d be parking getaway style more often. You know, for easier jumper cable access. But nope. Not my style.

I hope that dude’s bike tips over.

Disconnected:
Hey music industry you want people to pay for your product? Here’s one good way to do it:

How the fuck you gonna turn that down? It’s like dollar silos night.

2012-52: Full Frontal Friday

Friday, June 1st, 2012

1rd You guys want to discuss the gyro. Weirdest style of meat available. I suspect it’s just one level above hot dogs. Maybe even one level below Hebrew Nationals. But it’s a fucking fantastic sodium delivery vehicle. 2st Use your Crocodile Dundee voice for this one: “That’s not a yard sale. This is a yard sale.” Seriously, Madison, what the fuck? Is this neighborhood zoned for slummage and landfillery? 3th I get this ridiculous neighborhood newsletter. Presumably, so I’m alerted to parades, cut-rate famers’ markets and what buildings are now open to squatting. As with 90 percent of what arrives via the mail, I was going to toss this directly into the recycling bin. Then I noticed picture on the first page. I also noticed the amount of copy on the first page. It’s a miracle anyone does anything but throw away this newsletter. ttly tl dr. But the pic is what’s important. Oh dang, that’s Dengue Fever. I like that band. It seems they’re playing some event in my neighborhood. So I skim the first page. I get nothing. Turn to page two. Fuck the story isn’t there. Instead I have to turn to page 6 or 8 or some shit. Like this is goddamned Wired magazine. Muthafucking Outside. Like a friggin Playboy softcore mag. But instead of getting interrupted with a fashionable tank top slipping off some sweet juggs, I was only interrupted by more words. So I roll over to page six or whatever and I skim again, focusing on the bolded words. Again I see nothing. Fuck this. One more time. Slower now. Finally. They are playing Saturday night. No idea of the time or place. The festival is called the Marquette Waterfront Festival, so naturally it’s on the Waterfront, right? Well here’s the rub, asshole — I live on an isthmus. Two waterfronts for you to go fuck yourself with. It honestly took me like twenty minutes to find out when and where. In fact, it took so long to learn the details, the deets, the deet-a-leets I ended up missing the show. That was a lie. I’ll be seeing them tomorrow night. If you’re in Madison, you should too.

4nd Shout out the twitter peeps

@BillyNorfWoods is getting married this weekend. Coincidently, so is Aldu Fawnchawn. But not to each other. I’ve been here for like 10 months now and I still have yet to meet up with BillyNorf. I think that shit should change.

Torontario Connexion @RhysHastings is in a “Show of your city by bike” kind of contest sponsored by Rapha.

The dude is legit. Torontario is all flesh and flash. Rapha is mega. Take some time, register for it and support the guy. And when you’re voting, remember he’s foto B in gallery one.

El Dia De Los Muertos

Tuesday, November 1st, 2011

Chapter 1: WINTAR

Seriously, where is this shit? Both coasts are getting hit. First it was the Tahoesies and Cololame-os getting some, and then UMS became CMS in a wicked blast of winter weather. SHOUT OUT TO NAT V!

Where the shit is my wintar weather?

Maybe this is for the best. I still need to find some boots. Actually, I don’t even need to find boots I just need to get them or something. Salomon Fdueceduece, where you at?

On the other hand, I got the winter ride ready to go. Just need to pop on the  studded tires and fenders. But this did happen over the weekend:

I don’t even know where those GT toestraps came from. Clay Davis says “Sheeeeeeit.” Just a pile of parts, all stripped off.

But now, $100 in,  I’ve got this:

Clearly, I still need to peel off some stickers and all,  but it’s pretty much theft-deterred right now. I say that but someday I’ll come to find my radio missing and battery gone. Ahhh…not really. I’ve got indoor bike parking at home and at the office. This is just how Madison rolls. How are you not going to have indoor bike parking?

Seriously, I don’t even lock that shit up. Just lean it against the rack. It’s like Micheal Moore’s Canada up here. Plus we can carry guns now, so there’s that.

In other news I have no trivia on Tuesday nights anymore, so that has me lost. I’m lost-aez bru.

capítulo uno: papá

Twas  poppa vRs birthday on the 26th. I missed it. I’m a horrible son. So Imma let him buy me dinner tonight to make up for it.

פרק אחד

Also, it was halloween. The greatest thing I saw, apart from Murs making raps, was a panda, sans head, getting real raw with a slutty nurse on the dance floor (street, as the concert was outside). I should also note the slutty nurse was wearing the missing panda head. It was fucking amazing. I want to go back in time, take acid and watch it all over again. Of course if the  was the case I would also go back in time and stop freshman-in-college Rumorator from getting down with like 4 of the first 5 girls I got down with. Just pull him aside and let him know, “It gets better, kid. Your gonna stop wearing those Phish shirts soon, and watch what you’re drinking, you’re getting college fat.”

Dan Savage could have had an “It gets better” campaign for me regarding the women I surrounded myself with. Shudder.

I also would then say “Listen to this  album with a candle burning and you’ll see your entire future,” just before handing past-me a copy of Dr. Octagon’s The Octogonecologyst.

Summer Retreat

Tuesday, June 14th, 2011

Camped out at the summer home. Where you gonna find me?
Pedaling a bike? Perhaps.
Listening to raps? Yup.
Trying to live an entire month pushing out asparagus pee? Like a fact factory.

Really though, the summer home is similar in location and design to the winter estate. In fact, I’ve built an exact replica of the estate, directly adjacent to the aforementioned estate. From this summer forward, the winter estate shall be known as Briarsnatch (as it always has been) and the summer home shall be referred to simply as Corriander Falls at Fetal Acres.

To say it is a replica is no exaggeration. Everything is the same. Floor plan, the over-sized Dead Kennedys poster used as a shower curtain, the fireman/stripper/fireman-stripper pole that connects all three floors.

Still The NPR crowd keeps rapping:

Please, for the sake of humanity stop making raps. It does no one any good.
Unless you’re these guys:

How the balls does the Whole Foods song have more views than Meter Feeder? This is what’s wrong with America.
New goal in life: grow Aesop Rock hair.

The second part:

I did get a new helmet.

And that’s a plus because I’ve taken to crashing my bike all over the place.

For those of you who care, it’s a SixSixOne Recon Helmet. And if anyone says it doesn’t fit on a large head, they are lying to you. Shit it protective. Shit is somewhat radder. Shit is designed for the large headed. Shit is A+ in my book.

The Triumvirate:

Humboldt Fog is pretty legit. Whole Foods rappist had that part right.

Four:

What do you know about running a Nissan Leaf off a Tesla Coil? IS IT DOABLE? I might need TheFlawsyFiles to put me in touch with Bill Nye the science guy on this one.

The Hump Day Dump

Wednesday, April 6th, 2011

Wednesday, lets do this.

I finally pulled the trigger on some new Benny Gold’s. I grabbed the Gold Standard selvage denims. I actually got these bad boys last Friday and have been living in them ever since. They are good pants, made in the USA, 13.5 oz denim, comfy, all that. Plus  look at that color.

Coming from 5 years of wearing Nudies and APCs almost exclusively, these things are definitely a change, The legs have way more room and the rise is mega. at first I was a bit unsure of them, but they’ve quickly grown on me. Besides, not all of my pants need to that slim. my favorite feature of these pants is the pen pocket off the coin pocket. It’s a simple thing, but as someone who carries a pen 90 percent of the time, it’s great. I’m not a denim expert but I’m guessing these pants are coming from the same denim used in Agave jeans. They seem a touch too soft out of the box to be from the Cone factory. Again that is pure speculation. I used some social media mastery and asked Mr. Weiner himself where they were from but he just said they were made in the USA. Benny Gold is TRADE SECRETIVE.

At the online shop he recommends sizing down one size, which I have to echo to anyone. If you want them to be slimmer, go down two sizes. And speaking of the online shop, he’s got them for 50 percent off right now. So go buy two pairs. If your local shop isn’t carrying these, be sure to grab them directly from the source. It puts more money in the pockets of the people who design and make the goods, not some online streetwear-exploitation warehouse. Support the people that support your interests.

One to the Next One

I first saw this video a couple months ago, then my buddy John from Seven Years Winter sent it out again the other day.

VCA 2010 RACE RUN from changoman on Vimeo.

Be sure to take note of his uniform at 3:29.

I like his style.

And Then There Was This

My main sticker mama and all around rad lady Nat Vosko had her pottery show opening the other day. I gotta say, her pieces look good.

Congrats to Nat, and thanks to L-boogie for getting pics of it all.

While We’re Here

Dane101 and Phil Ejercito dropped this bomb from April 4th in Madison.

I’ve got so much new found respect for Jessie Jackson. The guy has spent more time in Madison over the past 2 months than most residents. Words cannot even explain it. But if this picture doesn’t have you thinking, then you need to re-examine your American dream.

And Lest We Not Forget

9 days until Whistler

The Weekend That Won’t End

Wednesday, March 30th, 2011

I did some time traveling this weekend. That is to say it was like those college days. Except this time I didn’t wake up with my head in a pizza box and hand in my pants. But it got shaky for a while. Needless to say I’m back to living upright now.

We’re going to start with the fact that this morning I was told I look like this dude:

NO WAY DUDE. NO WAY. You can go back to eating your Jimmy Johns sandwhich. Last time I had one of those was the last time I was in college. I never checked the ingredient list, but it seems that they may have put some poop on it. Chip says feces is their secret ingedient. Gross.

But really guy, I’m not looking like that poster. When was the last time you saw me riding sans hood? Maybe that Dub Jacket in 96? Maybe that same Dub Jacket in 2000? That thing had like 5000 name hits on it. Unstoppable. I was trying japan airs off spines that one winter, wearing that hoodless beast.

And those gloves over the coat? When was the last time you saw me riding with gloves ove the coat? Maybe those Burton Universe gloves in 96? Maybe those same Burton Universe gloves in 2000? That things had like 2 name hits on ‘em. Unstoppable. I was trying japan airs off spines that one winter, wearing those gauntletted bitches.

Otherwise that’s picture is spot on.

Article 2


I’ve been listening to Flashlight, the extended version, like it was 96 and I wearing a hoodless Dub jacket with Universe gloves and  just discovered Jorge Clinton. But I think we all now that when you turn this ipod on it goes directly to Devo “Uncontrollable Urge.”

Section 3 seat 9


New paint on the Team Rumorator bike. That shit wins races.

Quads

Quints Paste

Whistler: 16 days

Mixed Mediums

Tuesday, March 22nd, 2011

Whistler 23 days.

Since we’re probably all thinking about riding bikes by now, I’ll share this one  canadian Davey Ronalds directed me too. It’s fun.

A Hill in Spain from chris akrigg on Vimeo.

Is good right?

Oh, what’s that you say? Bikes aren’t your bag? Well you should probably check out this one then:

28 YEARS “That Ho” – Official Music Video from Wes Richardson on Vimeo.

I got this one from Goose and it’s probably the best thing he’s given me since a gmail invite.

NC repping hard in that, but the lens-less glasses is going too far. I see 2nd graders on those jawns at this point. You might as well be pushing some Court Forcers in the Daily Piff. Better yet, you call me and I’ll send you my winter meats, some beat old Peacocks.  You can get fresh with those.  Fucking glazzles without lenses. Next year you’ll be faking in wheelchair.

Assholes.

Lastly, promotional material or not, this is ths shittiest looking bee ever:

Awards Season

Monday, March 14th, 2011

First Period: International Affairs

Alright Readership, here we go. I was informed by 1/5 of youthat I need to get back to writing about snowboards or bikes or at least something funny, or I am going to lose my readers. The other four of them.

The fact of the matter is this has been a pretty crapchunk season for snowboarding. I’ve been bizzed, not getting out as much as I want and the weather has been garbage barge. Luckily I will be sneaking out to Whistler to catch “The Show” portion of the Telus Festival. And since I’m going solo, if anyone wants to meet up and toss down a couple turns or beers let me know. I need friends.

Second Period: History

Incase you missed that, I’m taking this show international. And yet I still get no high fives on the local. Is cool though. This thing never set out to be a Milwaukee blog. The origins of this entire rag was to blast shit about a core group of guys who all lived on the same wing in our dorm.

Somehow it got out of hand, people decided to read it and it’s given me an excuse to have more fun.  It also gave me an excuse to have some stickers made. In fact it’s almost like I’ve got a street team. Check out this action from the Socal track racer man.

Shit gets raced. I’m like the USofA with the army racecar, except I’m still backing women’s reproductive rights. HUZZAH!

3rd Period: Social Studies

As I was saying, I’m not really looking to be some Milwaukee blogger. But this is some serious hackory: Check out the Shepard Express (print publication, old media) Best of Milwaukee Web Awards.

Scroll through the list and take note of the serious lack of Rumorator nods. I’m like Marty Scorsese, before The Departed, over here. I guess if I was going to knock off something Japanese for the cred at home, now would be the time.

And dig on this one:

Really I shouldn’t be so offended. Because if you look at the options for best art blog The first option is Art City, which is pretty much in direct competition to the Shepard Express. For real, the Shep Ex is suppose to be our alterative weekly, loaded with stuff to put you in the know. And who do they nominate for best Art Blog in the city? Not themselves. This would be like el rumorator just talking about how rad Shayboarder is. Fucking genius work.

4th Period: Government

At the risk of losing all my readers, you gotta see this:

It’s from Mr. PhilGarlic’s FlickrStream

It’s also worth checking out this one, from Dane 101.

That’s a lot of pissed off people, Scotty. Beware.