Midnight Rant (Beer fueled)

Bikes are dope. Dirt, road, day, or night. Rain or sun, I love to ride. I like, watching, dreaming, fixing, talking, reading bikes.  I told Gina the other day, when my time comes, I want a few things.

1) Keg of Happy Camper IPA at my funeral (drink it, like it or not, it's my day).
2) Ride your bike to my funeral, no excuses not to, I mean really, it's a last request.
3) Hopefully, everyone there will be old as cold shit (excuse my language) because I want to live a long time.

I admire people who are guru's of bike riding, repair, and creation. I admire women, like my wife, who shred the living daylight out of trails and get crazy stoked about it. I love scary features, hero dirt, gnarly wrecks that push the reset button, ridiculous trail-side repairs, armchair experts, people who size me up and have no idea that I ride crazy long, hard, and scary trails because I have a full-on problem. I love ridiculous challenges and trying off the wall ways of riding (fixie mountain biking, BYRDO!).

I want to change the world with two grips, a frame, two wheels, a chain, and a ferociously dedicated bicycle powered brain.  I want to make and eat my bread with my bike. I want to get my mom on a trike, recumbent, tandem, any kind of bike.  I want to fuel my son's passion for bikes so when he turns twelve, he, his mom, and I can drop the grid, ride across this amazing country and take in every ounce of pedal powered goodness.  I want to live in a town with pedal up drive throughs, pedal powered cops and pedal triggered lights at every stop.

I love my life through the lens of my bike. My beer is empty, good night.

Singlewhat???

Just when riding a singlespeed couldn't get radder, boom! I built myself a singlespeed road bike.  Blasphemy you Coloradans say? Correct, but I don't live in that mountainous mountain of a state anymore so in the words of Drew, I say to singlespeed road biking, WORD!