I Only Look at Big Bikes for The Pictures
After typing up yesterday's Swank 65 race report, my fingers are exhausted. I may have also used up all the words in my brain, so what we have here are photos from the first day (hey, it was an action-packed day, what can I say?) of the trip to North Carolina, or "North Koo-Koo-Looky" as native Christopher McQueen calls it.
Above: I shipped my bike to Cycle 9 in Carrboro. My good buddy Chris works there. The shop is pretty much my worst nightmare — they primarily deal with electric assist and cargo bikes...not that there's anything wrong with that. I just don't want to deal with it is all. Their motto is: "Ride your bike more." The idea is to encourage people who live far from their workplace and need to transport large amounts of stuff, or children, or large amounts of stuff AND children. These aren't necessarily people who would ride a bike at all otherwise, so I think it's a great thing, these guys are doing good work at Cycle 9. I commend them...from afar.
More Cycle 9. The shop opened up and then , almost immediately a coffee shop moved in next door. One of Cycle 9's employees even does double duty, working over at the cafe. This is a dangerous combination. Coffee is like bike mechanic crack. As it stands, I drink an absurd amount of coffee. If I had access to virtually free and limitless coffee, I would drink it non-stop, until I devolved into a shaking, babbling-at-ninety-miles-per-hour-mass.
That photo on the bottom right, that's a car battery. Albeit a tiny, three wheeled car, but still a battery for a car. And now I will back even further away (and maybe hide behind this trash can here) and commend them once again.
After building up The Superfly Chris and I met up with Brian Plaster, owner of Johnny's. Not sure how to describe Johnny's. Next time you're in Carrboro just go check it out. If you go in the morning grab a coffee and a "Bretzel." Or head over at night and get a taco from the taco truck, buy a beer from inside, and sit down by the fire to listen to some live music. That's almost like a description, and it sounds a whole lot better than Farlow Gap.
The ride we did was all local, as in right there in Chapel Hill. It's called "The Water Tower Ride" and it's amazing for what it is. What it is, is right out the back door and down the street. Real fun up and down with lots of logs to hop, and I love hoppin' logs.
We rode right down to the wire, heading straight over to pick up Chris' son Dexter at daycare. Dex took one look at me in my silly-suit, and said, "Pider-Man!" He's two, he thought I looked like Spiderman. I've heard worse. What was funny is that even later, after I was dressed normally (for me) he still called me Pider-Man!
After the ride I made my second trip of the day to Johnny's. This time for Tacos. I will risk stirring up more controversy by saying, without apology, that you can get a better taco in Carrboro than you can get anywhere in Massachusetts, or New England for that matter...and you can get it from a TRUCK. Someday I will hijack one of those trucks and drive it to Boston, so that people can experience a really good taco. It's a matter of taste you say, how can we argue matters of taste? We can when it's so extreme. If Boston tacos were even in the same phylum as Carrboro tacos it would be one thing, but they're not. It's like comparing Applebees to Orange Julius...oh wait, no it's not, that doesn't even make any sense. A Carrboro taco is like Christmas (that or any other crazy-make-'em-upper holiday which is a big deal for you personally) in your mouth. A Boston taco is like eating a sponge you found under the bathroom sink. Ignorance is bliss; unless ignorance leads you to eating things that taste like sponges you found under your bathroom sink.
See all that stuff going on up there at Johnny's? Music, bikes, fires, tacos...the place rocks.
Chris and Dexter by the fire at Johnny's, kinda special.
Then it was on. Adrian "Mexican #2" Fletcher (this nickname refers to his billing as an extra in the upcoming Orlando Bloom drama "Main Street." That's only half a joke) came down from Durham and he, Chris, and I went out on the towns...all two of them. PBRs were put away, followed by Sake-Tinis. Yes, Sake-Tinis. They are delicious and refreshing.
Local, Jack Whitebread sat with us at The Orange County Social Club. He shared with us the secret to getting admitted to the exclusive private drinking club a couple doors down, "It's hard to get in. Aw, it's not that hard to get in...ya just have to be a racist bastard!" For some reason they didn't let us in.
Then we hit up another taco truck. The young man pictured above came rolling up to the illuminated vehicle, looking super-cool...then rode straight into a foot and half high asphalt curb which he had failed to take note of. Adrian suppressed his laughter, sort of.
By the end of the night it seemed completely in order that Chris should don his snowboard helmet and dance like Elvis.