Big Bikes

Five Thousand (Not So) Easy Pieces

It will all come back to me eventually. That's made up, there's no reason why it should, but these visual aids might help. I sure had a lot to say when I got to work today, all in my just-got-off-the -redeye- sleep-derprived state. I was special. I'll keep thinking and editing photos over the next couple days, posting random thoughts about my senseless acts. The above photo is stolen though. There's another one somewhere below. In the one above I'm about hop that rock, I might have forgotten that moment if not for the photo-person, I liked that moment, so thank you , whoever you are.

This is Mark Weir's Santa Cruz Nomad. He converted it to a single speed with some cassette spacers and a very stretched out XTR derailleur. The six inches of travel apparently gave him a huge advantage on the downhills where he'd pull away from Marko, Wicks, and Decker, but the thing had to weigh near thirty pounds. Had to hurt dragging that beast up the hills. Word was he got taken out by a lapped rider who then wanted to fight him. Weir is about the last bike racer besides Svein Tuft you would ever want to brawl with. He don't look like no bike racer, he looks like a UFC fighter.

Having legs the size of baby hippos probably helps muscling a Free Ride bike up the hills.

We stopped at 7-Eleven on the way back to the campground the night after the race. We hadn't started drinking Sparks yet, but I may have been hallucinating anyway.

Have you ever taken photographs of your hallucinations?

Morning of the race. Bru hops the barbed wire fence to get to Denny's for a fine breakfast. The Soscol cafe was really a better bet.

Buck gots his-self saved. Then he cleansed himself in the hoppy, brown water.

It's easy to find your bottle feeder when he's wearing a five gallon hat. Thanks John.

On the chase, I yo-yoed off this guy for two laps . I wouldn't catch him until the bottom of the downhill. He actually cheered me on as I hammered up the final little rise before the finish. I think he was from the U.K., or maybe New Zealand, because he wasn't even being sarcastic. That's genuine class.

I never did see what function this contraption served.

My tire is bigger than your tire - So sing it

Bedtime...was hours ago.