sunday morning coming down

If you don't know the Johnny Cash song "Sunday morning coming down", you should check it out.  It's a powerful, emotionally driven song about the consquences of hard living (and a fun Saturday night).  It almost brings me to tears to hear it.  I've had more than my share of those kind of mornings, but thankfully, not for awhile (and none that resulted in mugshots).  

" Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day. " 

 

I'm sure there are some dudes in Binghampton feeling pretty low right now, but I'll bet the Belmar event was off the friggin' charts.   I can't wait to see the coverage.   

    I spoke to Solan Foster yesterday and he was on his way home from the winning the NBL Regional  race in Lansing.  Congrats to Solan for being the bad ass that he is.   He'll also be due for some more congratulations in a few months, when  the stork shows up at his house again....

    

 

 

Turbo Todd Britton had a big birthday a couple weeks back and is celebrating his fourth decade of existence by getting radical on bikes.

The Grand Haven park is so fun.  I wish I were there right now instead of a hotel in Cincinnati.

    Here are some shots that Ernesto sent over from our Evansville, Indianer street session a week and a half ago.

Frank Bertke has been holding shit down at Dan's for years and is a humble, off the radar, rider.  He was going so high off this mellow bank (with an awkward runway).    Frank is the first guy I ever saw ride without brakes (seven years ago, and he'd been running sans-binders for awhile even then) where I understood how it could be better.  He was manualling for miles and doing other stuff that brakes would not allow.  

 

 

 

shortly after this shot of Justin's stylish, high speed wall ride was taken, Ernesto had to be the moderator with a local "Thugster" who wanted to whip all our all asses and shit.  It was ridiculous.  I'm too old for street fights. 

There was a time when doing a no-footed can can was one of the "big tricks" that a rider would do for a contest placing or to get a photo in a magazine.  Nowadays, kids like Steve here,  fling them off flat banks like it was nuthin'.

   I love this one...