Sorry Sean, I had to push that photo down...

Look at the beautiful day that we had yesterday in Boulder...

Ouch! Cover your eyes!

4th of July = Fireworks, tequila, mountain biking, good food, good people, 1 sprained thumb...and Sean porn.

Lover's Leap - Yosemite

Check this out. This guy is sick.

bIKE cLUB powers, activate

This is probably my favorite picture from Laramie. Introducing, the bIKE cLUB Wonder Twins. Dud: "Shape of, a giant clam." Sean: "Form of, an ice penis."

Corn Hole and Chablis

Laramie, WYO

Except for being about an hour late, going back for a bigger camel back, breaking a chain in literally the first 20 seconds of the ride, frame encrusted cow shit, mosquito and tic bites, sun burn, post Qdoba rot gut, incessant head winds up hill and having to witness Sean's new wrist bands (actually, they're pretty cool), we rode the last 40ish miles of the Enduro course Saturday, spanked it and banked it. Good times, good times and very well played!

1st!

Chainsaw pulled off the category win at the Wildflower Rush MTB race in Crested Butte over the weekend and got 7th overall in the Cat 2s, despite being the last group to start, and now we are aiming for the National Championships in Sol Vista on July 17th. Come on up/over and cheer her on! She races at 3pm. And don't forget to Bike to Work tomorrow for the similarily named day!

Happy Father's Day!

That goes out to all the fathers reading this blog, which would include, um..., maybe Terrible Steve Gabbard? Dash will be soon but otherwise the ranks of the Footsoldiery remain almost completely progeny-free, no doubt deviously designed by those master puppeteers, the Uber-Ancestors, whom must remain otherwise un-mentioned, to enable the Cyclonaut to enter battle relatively well-rested, unburdened by familial responsibilities and for the time being unpoo-stained, or at least unstained by anyone else's poo.


With the incredible casualty-rate endured during the typical bIKE cLUB outing however we are going to need fresh recruits, stat so if you're a father out there in the blog-o-sphere, here's to you! Get crackin' on another one and send us a shout out in the Comments

Lancia Stratos was one mean mo-fo!

I'm sure this means nothing to anyone (except Brad) but man, the old Group B cars (and courses, and spectators!) was some crazy shit! You can just tell everyone involved was so coked up they could barely see straight...love it! I mean do you want to watch some ice-cold Brit spin a Ford Focus on a closed course or some comb-over 80's Scandinavian with coke-bottle glasses getting sideways into about 1000 screaming Greeks as flames shoot out of his exhaust and his co-driver does Hail Mary's. Honestly the death-toll among spectators had to be ridiculous, and the so called homulgation cars were a joke, The "civilian" Stratos' windows didn't even roll down and the drivers head is about 6" away from the engine, hot as shit in there. Besides for the Stratos clips, watch for the cows wandering onto the course. Pucker!

Chimney Gulch Death Ride

bIKE cLUB riders Furious, Dud, Matty A14, dASH, Allison and guest rider Tim departed Boulder early Sunday morning with the best laid plans to attack Chimney Gulch and get back before the impending thunderstorms. But in true fashion, every good bIKE cLUB plan totally falls apart. Let’s see. 1) Major hydraulic brake failure? Check. 2) Jacked up shifting? Yes. 3) Late start? Confirmed. 4) Shredded Cassette? Check. 5) More brake failures? Roger that. 6) Rain. Check. 7) Sean stacking the descent and almost needing stitches? Affirmative. 8) Taco’d rear wheel? Uh, yeah. 9) Hail? Of course. 10) Tornados? 11) Sunshine and margaritas? No brainer.

Lessons learned? Just get out and ride.

What's this funny business?

Highroller AND Chainsaw riding, together? What's next a plague of locusts and then fire falls from the sky? I'm rusty on my 7 signs of the Aporkalypse (speaking of which we baked and ate an entire pack of bacon this morning)


Took the long way up, up, up to Root Canal and the tippy top of Emerald. Very Ned-esque up there, cool, shaded, mossy... Despite these similarities to my old stomping grounds, Chainsaw was the only one to stack it, with a classic "I'm trying to get started on a steep loose uphill technical section, but instead I'm falling over sideways into these here prickle-bushes". Graceful like the last steps of a rhino with a tranq-dart in its neck...


Equilibrium-break as Highroller tries desperately to catch his breath after filling up a flat 29er tire (damn volume) with the most micro of mini-pumps. I'd estimate 900 pumps to get that mo-fo puffed up, seriously. Even today my pumping arm (what?) is still sore...