Phil's Bike Tour

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

playing catchup

Lets try this at a greatter speed.

July 4th eventually I make it across the bridge back to the chicken hut, I colapse but I am not able to stay long.

To velodrome or not to velodrome, my body hath made the answer.

It says go ahead and try.

Stupid body, my mind knows that if i get out there by 3pm ill still have to bike from deep queens back down to south brooklyn. Last time I did that the Black Label kids and I were huffing it for what seemed like hours. Given that I had not yet failed to get lost on days where i was confident I could find the place, it was easy to avoid.

So a closing party at the Hook instead. Some fireworks over the East River (which seems more of a bay than a river) and I get to kinda see the statute of liberty at a distance.

Fireworks get more and more lame for me every year. If they aren't exploding within feet of me or someone's bike, i just dont wanna even try. I think back to last year's event on the 4th. I feel homesick. I am crowded by hundreds of strangers lined up on the esplanade checking their text messages and talking loudly. I remember Independence Day as a child. It was cool to sit back on some grass and see thing explode in the sky above. These Brooklyn kids are fucked.

Loneliness sets in. I replace said loneliness with a couple Colt 45. Sure enough it works every time.

Back to the closing party I cant find my id. How will i ever gain access to this dope party that has, i am told, cheap beer and free food. Another LosAnglian comes to my rescue. Of course I cant remember his name.

He give me his id which looks like a shot from a cheech and chong movie, and to complete the image i take his hat. I get the bracelet for reentry then check on the food. $5! well... maybe later, as it is the line curls around and around. I dont wait in line well so I make it to the fence to escape the mass. But I am stopped by one of the Portland crew who seem to have a great distaste for everything i do.

"Are you trying to get out?"
"Yeah Im gonna head though the gate"
"they put up a dumpster"
"Oh, well I think ill go check it out anyway"
"Im telling you its blocked"
"I just saw someone leave though it a min ago"
"Why dont you believe me? you are going to have to walk back though here!"
"I believe you, and yet I am still going to see if I can leave."

It was somewhat stressful moment. I did believe her and yet I wanted to see for myself. I guess we are both too stuborn for our own good.

A couple of euros were chillin by the dumpster in the only place that wasn't packed full of people. We make short talk and then agree that we should leave. The dumpster was in a hole, but with our biker sweat and indifference to smelling like crap we moved it. and the gate swung open.

Upon our leaving a older man who seemed out of place walked up to the gate. I told him that folks were supposed to go to the door first. My gamble paid off. He WAS the owner and he was happy i was regulating and he was ok with our using the gate as an exit. WIN WIN WIN (cause i really dont care if some old cat wants to sneak into said party, in fact i was kinda hoping i was wrong and that he was just a old drunk trying to crash)

back outside, the ID gets returned, and I come back to the land of $1.25 malt liquor. Billy D Williams must have been thinking about me drinking in the street, I am sure of it. Chillin with the LA folks feels so good, David Benoff and the crew, nice folk to be sure, who are still just beaming that Bikesummer in LA went over so well. Everyday i get an email about how happy someone is that now LA proved it is a bike culture city.

Then back inside for some Team Spider action. Maybe the best ska-punk-metal group ever? not likely, but they rocked tonight. The room hopped and though i agreed to tape the show for Chris I gave up the camera at the end so that I could dance some. It was great. Just as it was over the bunny hop was raging outside. They actually had a dirty bunny jumping over the bar to show the bikers how to do it. All the bikers got schooled by someone being called Vanilla Rasta by the MC, a skateboarder who was oiling way over what all the bikers could pull. Could the egg on face be an oversight? let the conspiracy theorists go to town.

Then more polo! alas we had no mallets, so we fastened them out of the bamboo shoots used for the bunny hop. We played into the morning, when the folks told us we had to go take over some other street. We left to play some rooftop polo, but i think it was a ploy to get us away. At least thats what Id like to think, rather than that there was 5 people waiting on some rooftop for me to show up. that would be disastrous. All because I was taking my time rolling with someone that wasn't going with us anyway (friggin messengers actually going to work, just cause its 7am)

If anyone knows how to reach Randal McMurphy from Zurich let me know. there is still more Vodka Rugby to be played.

pictures of these folk: http://nybma.com/cmwc2005/whosregistered.php
musical acts of bikenss: http://www.teamspider.com/
pictures of CMWC13: http://www.trackstarnyc.com/

1 Comments:

  • ahhhh, what a great set of updates. so vivid and dream/nightmare-like. today my chain jumped off the gear crossing n (yes north) broadway. thats about as close as i got.

    wait a minute, not quite... i forgot that megan and solveig and i were heading home on mississippi at about 9:30p and were greeted by a local who had placed a ping-pong table on the sidewalk. a game was just beginning. a guy and his (drunk) gal, celebrating her birthday, walked up and wanted to play. we all agreed we needed a chalkboard to write down who was next up to take on the winner. the ping-ponger told us how they had a rousing game with some local crack aficionados the night before, but managed to remain undefeated despite their opponents play-enhancing states.

    we may only get one month of summer in portland, but its pretty fun.

    By Anonymous jon vin-rouge, at 10:54 PM  

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