Our homie Russ up in Alaska sent over this image of his well used o.g. Bike Jerks Skyline cap.
It’s always very cool for me to get to see the stuff being well used an loved. It warms the heart.
Did I dye that brown or did it used to be white?
Treasure slayed it all weekend on this 1×9 Krampus setup with a Fox 34 fork on it. It was impressive to be sure, but I’m not sure how much it says about the Krampus as Treasure would slay it on a Magna if that was the tool at hand.
Sometimes in life it can be very tricky to judge the quality of a human being at a quick glance, not that you should always go around judging people at a quick glance, but it happens and can be a real time saver when done accurately. Often enough though, it’s incredibly easy to pick out society’s dipshits, fuckwads, and ass clowns (that last one was for you Mark).
One handy shortcut that I use often while on my bicycle, is the famous Minnesota Whiskey plate. For those of you unfamiliar or from other parts of the universe, if you receive a certain amount of DUI’s within a 10 year period your standard license plates will be revoked and you will be issued plain plates with a “W” starting the tag sequence. Because of the W, these plates have popularly become known as “Whiskey Plates.”
If you have Whiskey plates an officer can pull you over at anytime for any reason to give you an intoxication test. It’s essentially a scarlet letter and far from feeling bad for these folks, I think it’s awesome that they must wear their shame publicly. Fuck ’em.
If you’re a person who regularly drives drunk* you’re a fucking selfish asshole. No bones about it. Even if you’ve never had an accident, each time you get behind the wheel of that multi-ton projectile you cock the hammer, and even if you make it to your destination safely, don’t kid yourself. You pulled the trigger and missed.
It’s an act that shows utter contempt for everyone on the streets, and you’re a terrible person.
I’m super stoked that the government did something to shame you and let the rest of us know to steer clear.
*Yes, I realize it’s fairly hypocritical of me to bash on drunk drivers when I also am a participator in drunk cycling. In my experience, and I’m from rural Wisconsin where driving drunk is an institution, a drunk cyclist typically hurts no one but themselves and I have yet to have anyone I know injure anyone else while riding boozy. Where as a drunk driver hurts themselves and more often than not other innocent people. I’ve had plenty of family members and friends whose lives have been decimated from the fallout of drunk driving accidents. And yes I realize that there are holes in my logic so big you could boozily drive a Lincoln through and perhaps it’s just bullshit justification on my part, but these are my codes of ethics that I’m expounding on, not necessarily yours.
Now that it’s election time here in Minnesota there’s a measure on the ballot that would define marriage in the state constitution as between one man and one woman.
This gives us yet another excellent way to spot assholes at a distance, as they’ve decided to make their ridiculousness public and put signs like the above in their front yards.
Unfortunately this issue has been painted as one of religion, but any sane human being should be able to see that it’s one of simple human rights and equality. We’re not talking about marriage in a Church under the watchful eyes of your god, we’re talking about the simple fact that under the law two people who enter a marriage are afforded with certain protections and tax benefits by the government.
The idea that allowing two consenting loving adults to enter into a partnership that is recognized by the state so offends your sensibilities, way of life, and convictions, religious or otherwise that it needs to be a part of our constitution is so completely selfish and wrong that I can barely fucking stand it.
There are people in this world who love members of the same sex, it’s a fact, it’s real, deal with it you piece of shit. The world is full of people who hold different beliefs and live different lifestyles, someday you’re going to have to recognize that those people aren’t wrong or evil, or any of the other terms you may assign them. They’re just different.
The concept that our State Constitution should reflect your idiocy and narrow mindedness drives me up the wall. I’ll be so embarrassed if this travesty of a bill passes. What the hell would that say about us?
1 Medium Men’s
4 1 Large Men’s
The price is $65, including shipping, to anywhere in the continental U.S. If you’d like one, please email me at jeff at bikejerks and I’ll let you know what to do. I take payment via paypal.
Last Thursday Joshy, Treasure, Kopish, D.O., Mavis, and myself all barreled North 8 hours to the riding hot spot of Copper Harbor Michigan. Now Copper Harbor is a small town in the Keweenaw Peninsula known mostly for being the departure point for folks heading to Isle Royal in the middle of Lake Michigan. That is until recently when the IMBA and various contributors began pumping loads of money into trail development.
The town of only 85 year round residents is now quickly becoming known as a mountain bike mecca with an emphasis on gnarly DH trails, man made boardwalks, and flowy xc goodness.
The first day of riding we rode up as well as down, and while the riding was quite good, I wasn’t sure if the long trip was worth it as we could have made it to Spearfish S.D. in the same amount of drive time. By the time trip was over though, and after two days of shuttle runs, I was hooked and can’t wait to go back.
The small town folk, being able to slam growlers in our cabin and walk a block to refill them, the beauty of the fall leaves from panoramic vistas, and of course three days of trail banging has me completely sold. It ruled.
Unfortunately I’ve been getting a bit tired of being “blogger guy” on trips, and thus didn’t take many on the trail photos, but a quick google search should yield all that you desire. Don’t be fooled though by all the images of gnarly stunts, there are plenty of flowy more natural xc trails to be had as well.
On this trip I forego my hard tail single speed and borrowed a sweet Salsa Horsethief from my homie Alex (thanks dude), the bike ripped so expect a full review shortly. While I’m proud to say that I’ll single speed anything (Levis, Cayuna, whatever), truthfully doing so here would have super sucked and taken so much of the fun out of the occasion.
All of the dudes on the trip were on geard dualies, save for Treasure who was thrashing the new Surly Krampus 1×9 w/ a Fox front shock (more on this later). You absolutely needed gears to be able to enjoy all of the climbing, and there was so much gnarly terrain that you’d have to rein it in a ton on hardtail rather than letting the rad out. And these trails are all about letting the rad out, huge stunts, massive jump lines, tons of rollers, etc. etc.
More photos and adventures tomorrow
As I’m still unburying myself from a whole pile of undone stuff that needs doing, I thought I’d keep it brief and open up my recent travel coverage with a glimpse into the amazing world of Wisconsin Supper Clubs.
If you’re new to the phenomena, check out this New York Times article on the subject
On Thursday evening we took the opportunity to check out The Turk’s Inn, which is near the Hayward/Cable area, and is a spot that Treasure has been eyeing up for years but has never had the pleasure of finding open.
Well last Thursday was the day, and another item was checked off the to do list.
Drink it in and wonder at the luxury, the weirdness, and the classic Northern Wisco dining.
After dinner we headed down the path behind the restaurant for a leisurely stroll on their little river island. No big deal.
You all know of my affection for my PDW stainless pint glass, so after getting their blessing to ape the idea, I am stoked to present you with our version.
It’s got our shield logo on the front, and “Fast is Forever” on the backside. It’s the jam for any beverage related situation that may arise.
back safe but still catching up, be with you soon.
If you don’t love Ruben, you’re a total kook