Friday, August 30, 2013

They stole his bike, and broke his heart


You will be missed, Bottom Bitch

Mr. Q's trusty bike, a 2004 Giant OCR 2, was stolen Tuesday from outside his office near Northgate.

Mr. Q has other bikes, but in a sense, he had one bike. He has a bike available to ride in his backyard shed, but in a sense, now the shed is empty of bikes. He is the president of Seattle's most venerable night riding union, without a bike upon which to night ride. He is like the Lone Ranger without Silver, or Burt Reynolds without his mustache. He called it "My Bottom Bitch," or "Bottom B" for short. Now he has no bottom bitch, and what is a pimp without a bottom bitch?

That bike accompanied El Presidente on every mission he participated in and led, except one. We are talking thousands and thousands of miles. All of his discoveries, all of his foggy memories, were made aboard that bike. He wrecked it countless times, and it was upon that gun metal that he suffered the Big Wreck, when he busted his front teeth, messed up his ribs and knee.

It's true that the Giant had been making mysterious creaking noises recently, and that on close inspection, the frame displayed many war wounds. However, this summer he replaced the entire drivetrain, a costly process which reaffirmed his commitment to the OCR, and strengthened the sacred bond between night rider and the thing the night rider rides.

“It just feels good,” he said at the time.

And now, calamity.

Although the chances of recovering it are slim, the union urges all members to keep their eyes peeled. Anybody with information on Mr. Q's bike is urged to contact the union using the message box on the right of the blog page.

Distinguishing Features

Size: Medium

Shifters: Right - Tiagra; Left - 105

Drivetrain: recently installed Sora

Decals: On the headtube is a sticker of a tiger leaping forward.



Not Bottom B, but just like it

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Rain in August and the Bus Stop to Hell

If you don't move the burned out meth trailer you abandoned near the elementary school the city is going to tow it.
Rain fell in a mist the whole ride back to the northside. Despite the calender, and the humidity, I fear our sweet sweet summer is flagging. At approximately 1:24 a.m., as I began the descent from White Center to the First Avenue Bridge, I spotted a topless woman on the sidewalk.

She was walking through the hood, 9th Ave SW, bearing her breasts for all to see, if there had been anyone else to see besides me. She was not a small woman, nor were her breasts small.

I had to stare at them for a few seconds, look real hard, not out of some lascivious curiosity, but because I was tired and high and didnt believe my eyeballs. She saw me looking.

I nodded at her. In response, she gave me a thumbs up.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

White center to renton to u district ballers

From and the annals, no, bowels, of Tukwila
Reid's first night ride. he insisted on beer, but he partook in a snack cake, and was not unimpressed.

El camino hacia el corizon de centro blanco

The next hipster to look me in the eye and then step in front of my bike may get some colorful language.

I was born a coal miner's daughter

Rainier Beach
Renton Coal Mine Road South is its name, and it's not easy to find. rightly so. it rides up Skyway's ass like a thong, and junctions with MONSTER ROAD, and leads into renton.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

The River and the Ferris Wheel

Jeremiah and I met on the waterfront, and shared a brownie
Scouting new routes on the other side of the river, looking for a monster. A Monster Road. The path may prove too monstrous, it may taunt us, it may get judgemental. But our journey follows the path of safety. Thats why we are chasing geese in the middle of the night. We are bigger and smarter than them.

Little ride to the south side

Waiting on the BNSF

Monday, August 19, 2013

Ridin' Dirty - the mouse fairs best by staying coool

As we cannonballed lime-a-rita and dro at the scrap pile, the train of dumpsters next to us began moving. A worker trod nearby, talking into a radio, "I don't know how to turn that switch," he said. The man driving the train gave him instructions, which sounded like sea lion chatter. Like a ninja tag team, Mr. Q and I sprang into Code Blue, completed an ocular sweep and inventoried our surroundings, and while we waited, taking evasive action, we finished off the lime-a-rita. Nobody knew we were there, watching from the shadows, except for a moon hiding behind mazy clouds

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Fantasy Trek Upon Centennial Trail One Fine Day & the Madness & the Amiability of Northern Souls

Good blackberries here in Snohomish
 
Woke up late, so I pulled an audible on the Tacoma-to-Bremerton play, and instead hopped the Sound Transit 510 to Everett.

Stole out along the river, sun shining, sky empty of clouds. This summer has spoiled me. I wear shorts and a t-shirt, and don't even think about bringing gloves.

Snohomish's Grill? Yes I Am All Up In It

The road to the city of snohomish curls along the river, and smells sweet like dairy dung, and occasionally decay from a carcas concealed by the tall grass. I turned back to snap this photo, it reminded me of a video game.

Friday, August 9, 2013

Best. July. Ever.

Once I start partying, the swim trunks come off

So much day riding in July
so much bliss
so much begrudging other cyclists their right to exist.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Ridin' Dirty - do you wam ish?

Made it to the south park stop n' rob with minutes to spare. now sitting beside the river, discovering that green apple four loko isnt so bad. at what point does the duwamish river become the green river? and does it feel different?