WARREN

Fur suits. Cow hair belts. Aviator glasses, kayak helmets, pee spots and early morning epics. These are the things in life that make LIFE what it is.

Bike to work day. 2002. A plan to ride and a ride to plan in the universe in the vicinity of the narrow trails that are named after a recently ended black box series in which federal employees make efforts to save the general population from human/alien hybrids. Attendees included Ledyard Bancroft; Vera Cruz; The Hair-Rod high dwellers; Marcus “I pee’d myself” L; The Lazy Z OFS’ers and Twisted Timmy (now to be forever re-named as ‘Warren’ after the character in “Something About Mary” – FRANKS AND BEANS, FRANKS AND BEANS….).

THE GATES TO HEAVEN
 

Why go full dress, or in some cases cross dress. We commute every damn day – it’s about as unusual as someone else NOT commuting. Full dress is a means of celebrating, and on this day it is so important to celebrate the bicycle – not just as a commuting tool, or a means of getting around – but as a lifestyle. To quote one of my favorite two - wheeled sages – Travis Culley:

“My bicycle leans against the paper box. To the world, trotting through these trenches with me, it seems a toy, a feeble substitute for a Ford Expedition or another fucking Camry. What these people don’t know is that the bicycle is more than a toy, and more than a job. The Bicycle is a revolution, an assault upon civilian territory. It is a mutiny, challenging the ever one way street. The bicycle is a philosophy, a way of life, and I am using it like a hammer to change the world and redeem our war torn cities. I challenge you to consider this cult of human power that is reclaiming public space and giving it back to average people”

Alas, in this world of irony and hypocrisy we use motorized vehicles on this fine day to gain the approach of the ride. In our own defense, we move 7 people in two cars, an acceptable ratio. Marcus, the excited one, rides all the way from the center of the galaxy, and we catch him at the launch site at about 6am. Devices are assembled, a few quick shots before we head out, and we are dropping into the little trail that sounds like some really dumb commercial about drinking brown warm liquid from like 20 years ago (see Intro to Trail Obfuscation).
 

ALASKAN PILOT SUIT
 

Vera Cruz crashes first, and the rest of us wind and wend our way down a great descent through narrow trees and fine single wide mountain trail. We pause at the base, and prepare for the worst climb of the day. Various attacks are made, with various numbers of rotating cogs, and none are successful.  Noble efforts should be recognized from both the Hair-rods, and Warren for attacking very steep pitches with verve and agility at such an early hour.

WARREN PEES HIMSELF
 

The line of cycles extends far back every time I turn around to check on the troops following. It is a great sight – this queue of friends and family, highlighted by the back drop of the mountains and all the freshly filled in Aspens. We pass through an illegal zone without incidence, the excitable one temporarily removing a significant amount of fence with his sheer mass.

We enter the crux of the biscuit, the technical really fun part. Vera Cruz goes ass over teakettle, Megan flats, and we hang out on the woods for a few minutes. This is a nice pace, a nice way to spend the morning. The trail gets more technical, and even MORE fun, we grin, we rally, we choose some good lines, and some bad ones. The morning wears on.

THE SKIPPER

Much later, about 8:50am, we roll into the parking lot at Alfalfas – one of the free breakfast places around Boulder set up for Bike To Work Day. As we head into the food line, I overhear “Hey – that guy is wearing fur” followed by “Dude, they’re all wearing fur”. People avert their eyes. Someone from Full Cycle mutters: “It’s the Ned Short Bus”. Tim takes the cake as the most likely candidate to get arrested as he does a perfect imitation of Warren from ‘Something About Mary’ – FRANKS AND BEANS, FRANKS AND BEANS. I am pretty sure we will be seeing Twisted Timmy – aka Warren on the side of a milk carton any day now.

After stuffing face, being leered at, feared and ridiculed, we all go our separate ways to the respective, albeit sweet, veal pens that we occupy during a fair portion of the day in order to pay for beer and bike parts. I had a literarily (George W. can you hear me now?) inclined friend comment the other day that we were pretty mono-maniacal when it came to the obsession and portion of our lives that revolve around Bikes, and Beer (she forgot to mention Boobs – the third and very important B). I had to give it to her – it’s true. For some strange reason, it is a tonic that unites a great many of us, and provides us with great joy. I don’t think it’s a whole lot more complicated than that.

The day wraps up at the place with FRESH BEER and FLESH (not Boobs – but the fourth B – Burgers – boobs come later) and stories are swapped, plans made, beer drank, and a decision is made to run a full dress ride once a month. If for no other reason than to end up at this same place, having ridden hard,  put in a full day and generally applied ourselves to the fleeting thing that is our lives.