Big Bikes

Bachelor Pub Crawl Death March

In preparation for this endurance event I spent five hours riding in the hot sun with Mr. Whittingham and Mr. Sanidas. That's a story for another day, possibly tomorrow. This is kind of an inverse of my usual situation, where I've gone out drinking before a race and then suffered for it. In this case I went out riding and it made the drinking that much more painful. At least the pedaling part anyway, it was a pub crawl by bicycle.The fact that I'd had two bottles to drink all day long was probably not ideal either. We got back from the EPIC and started drinking beers and I went "Oh crap, I should probably drink some water or something".

My brother James tries to convince Uri to put him on the back of his bike and attempt to jump The Snake River Canyon...or The Charles River.
He settles for riding Bitch over The Longfellow Bridge.

We started off at Redbones in Davis Square, the headcount at that pint, I mean point was maybe fifteen (actual slip back there, I just added the "I mean point" part"). Greg "The Leg" Montello was our Cruise Director, the man with the plan. After a quick dinner and a couple drinks at The Bone, we moved ever so slightly down the street to The Toad in Porter Square Cambridge. There GTL stated the rule that when I finished my drink, it was time to move on. From then on everyone drank their beers with one eye on my beer. If I wasn't digging a scene, I would down the beverage more rapidly. Now that's power.

From there we moved on to Charlie's Kitchen in Harvard Square where we were introduced to the modern equivalent of Zima - Bud Lite LIME. Outside Charlie's I took my first ride on Uri's Africa Bike which has a Moped seat affixed to a trail rack and foot pegs for the passenger. Uri then gave rides to people who didn't need rides as they held onto their own bikes, the cranks and pedals coming dangerously close to going into the spokes of The Africa Bike's rear wheel. I don't think Greg Paraskos knows how close he came to dying on Mass Ave. last night.

Green St. Uri and The Africa Bike living dangerously

There was a brief mutiny where Mike H. and I sprinted ahead of the group leading them to The Cellar in Central Square where we had Tequila shots. That was a great idea. Then it was over to Charlie's Kitchen for Cocktails. Mine was a Rhum...something or other. Yes Rum was spelled with an H. At least I saw an H at the time. After taking some photos with a the members of a Bachelorette party (me in the blinking Tiarra) we were off to the big city.

Apparently The Liberty Hotel is much more popular now that it is no longer a prison. GTL went to work bullshitting the doorman to get us in. The troops became restless and began wandering off toward Charles St.. GTL called me to say that we "were in" but when we got back inside he was still in heated negotiations with fatty fatty gel head. In the confusion, two members got in, texting me "We walked through the bushes onto the patio". Greg P. and I tried that move, it did not work. A large security guard was onto us. We made like we weren't really planning to squeeze between two planters into the patio at all and pretended to check our text messages simultaneously. He wasn't convinced and kept an eye on us until we walked away.

Meanwhile three others from the group had stepped into an elevator which opened right next to the line. When GTL finally wore the doorman down and we got in , the elevator riders were waiting inside for us. So if you ever want to get into The Liberty Hotel and I have no idea why you would want to do that, just walk through the bushes or get in the elevator.

The secret elevator. Things get blurry. Bryan has a weid Cell phone, it's attached to the wall outside The Blue Diner

After The Liberty we tried to go to some awful place in Fanueil Hall, Hennessy's maybe. It was slammed, no chance. Somewhere we lost Sanidas, I still don't know where, then Bryan flatted, oh, and Matt O'Keefe blew out his freehweel and had to be towed across the Salt & Pepper bridge by Rooter. Sanidas would eventually find his way back to my locked house, walk into my neighbor's apartment then ultimately gain entry to the correct apartment by leaping through a high first floor window. Which, if you are a burglar, I implore you not to do.

From there on out things get hazy, but a stop at J.J. Foley's and The Good Life happened as well as, perhaps, possibly some others in the Chinatown vicinity.

Thanks to everyone that came out to make this an extra-special-awesome night.

You know it was an epic night of drinking when you think it's a good idea
to eat at The Blue Diner at 3AM