http://photos.breakawayind.net/mbw09
Here is Agent Trouble, Agent Standard Deviation and Me double dutching before the Chariot Wars started.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Jon Huey is a REALLY good photographer
Click this link to see his rendition of MiniBikeWinter09
http://photos.breakawayind.net/mbw09
Here is Agent Trouble, Agent Standard Deviation and Me double dutching before the Chariot Wars started.
http://photos.breakawayind.net/mbw09
Here is Agent Trouble, Agent Standard Deviation and Me double dutching before the Chariot Wars started.
Dear Hollis
Dear Hollis,
This can't be real. You aren't supposed to be in India. You are supposed to be here, working with the Derailleurs, whipping them into shape. We are supposed to be having a sleepover tonight. All your stuff is still in my room. We were going to be roomates when I came back. We were working on a tall bike duet. I did my homework while I was in Portland. I borrowed a tall bike as the bike I got around on so that I could work out some moves. We were going to wow the bike dance world. You and I aren't afraid to do the crazy moves. We'll get hurt together, it's all for the glory of executing it in front of an audience. The Derailleurs wouldn't be anything without you. You were the professional that pushed us past dilly dallying. You helped us lay out our goals and you gave us that stern face when we would get off topic. You got upset when we weren't pushing ourselves.
The saddest thing about all of this is that I forgot your birthday. What kind of wife am I? You were supposed to be gone before your birthday, so I wrote off your birthday this year. If you can only understand that Valentine's Day was the biggest event of my vacation. It started out with the Ben Hurt Chariot Wars, continued with a musical parody of bicycle dancing, and ended with a cameo in a Sprockettes performance. This day was the culmination of years of work. I know there was a spare second to call you. But I forgot. And I got your drunken message the next day where you were talking in our accent, the accent we speak together. It's a mixture of dirty south and Fargo, don't ya know. You ended the message with, "You suck."
Those were the last words you said to me in person. It kills me.
Ask any of my friends, I am the most birthday-forgetting person ever. But this seems to be pretty bad timing. Well, I don't think you will hold it aginst me. Even though you kidnapped me for my birthday. Your adventure prior to your accident was what you were looking for. I just imagine how happy you were to feel the freedom of a motorbike in a foreign country with the one you love.
If you only knew right now how many people are rooting for you.
You are a fighter. You have rainbows of love and light arching towards you from all over the globe. From Denmark to the Indonesia, from Canada to New Orleans. You have touched so many people. We want the best for you. If you need our strength, we are here and we are at your service. If you need to pass on this world and the cards you've been delt, you have the strength to face that as well. All I can say is that if you wake up, I will be there for you and I will dance with you again. And you are always with me, whatever state you are in. I love you wifey.
This can't be real. You aren't supposed to be in India. You are supposed to be here, working with the Derailleurs, whipping them into shape. We are supposed to be having a sleepover tonight. All your stuff is still in my room. We were going to be roomates when I came back. We were working on a tall bike duet. I did my homework while I was in Portland. I borrowed a tall bike as the bike I got around on so that I could work out some moves. We were going to wow the bike dance world. You and I aren't afraid to do the crazy moves. We'll get hurt together, it's all for the glory of executing it in front of an audience. The Derailleurs wouldn't be anything without you. You were the professional that pushed us past dilly dallying. You helped us lay out our goals and you gave us that stern face when we would get off topic. You got upset when we weren't pushing ourselves.
The saddest thing about all of this is that I forgot your birthday. What kind of wife am I? You were supposed to be gone before your birthday, so I wrote off your birthday this year. If you can only understand that Valentine's Day was the biggest event of my vacation. It started out with the Ben Hurt Chariot Wars, continued with a musical parody of bicycle dancing, and ended with a cameo in a Sprockettes performance. This day was the culmination of years of work. I know there was a spare second to call you. But I forgot. And I got your drunken message the next day where you were talking in our accent, the accent we speak together. It's a mixture of dirty south and Fargo, don't ya know. You ended the message with, "You suck."
Those were the last words you said to me in person. It kills me.
Ask any of my friends, I am the most birthday-forgetting person ever. But this seems to be pretty bad timing. Well, I don't think you will hold it aginst me. Even though you kidnapped me for my birthday. Your adventure prior to your accident was what you were looking for. I just imagine how happy you were to feel the freedom of a motorbike in a foreign country with the one you love.
If you only knew right now how many people are rooting for you.
You are a fighter. You have rainbows of love and light arching towards you from all over the globe. From Denmark to the Indonesia, from Canada to New Orleans. You have touched so many people. We want the best for you. If you need our strength, we are here and we are at your service. If you need to pass on this world and the cards you've been delt, you have the strength to face that as well. All I can say is that if you wake up, I will be there for you and I will dance with you again. And you are always with me, whatever state you are in. I love you wifey.
Friday, February 27, 2009
MiniBikeWinter 09 Montage
Mini Bike Winter Montage from Sara Cross on Vimeo.
Song: Anthem by Show Me The Pink
I continue to be amazed that our song is still being used.
People tell me it's the message and how catchy it is.
Well, thanks for enjoying it.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Nerds On Wheels @ MBW09
Nerds On Wheels was a group that worked the hardest to prepare for MiniBikeWinter09.
They practiced for 7 months to pull off the 35 minute musical parody of The West Side Story featuring the Cockettes and Lame Reaction. This is particularly exciting because they made so much fun of the formerly serious bicycle dance world. The crowd went wild. They said things everyone had thought but couldn't say because the Sprockettes and Chain Reaction are so endearing.
I have a feeling this performance broadened the scope of bicycle performance and has given the licensce to non-dancers to think of new innovations.
The dancing was not synchronized on purpose, except at the end with a stunning rendition of Thriller. They tried to arrange souveniers for the audience, including playbils and pink and black painted condoms with the words Lame Reaction and Cockettes on them. They also made sure that the expiration date was still visible. These kids showed that D.I.Y. talent is rampant and there is no limit to how much fun can be experienced.
They should be performing the show again, because the demand for it was so poular.
Thank you, Nerds On Wheels, for making fun of my life's work and the silly mutated minibikers that congregate in seasons along Cascadia and Greater Rad America!
(These were the only photos I was able to steal from jrydevisuals on flickr.com. Any more photos would be very appreciated.)
For those who are confused about the profundity, check out:
Chain Reaction
Sprockettes
They practiced for 7 months to pull off the 35 minute musical parody of The West Side Story featuring the Cockettes and Lame Reaction. This is particularly exciting because they made so much fun of the formerly serious bicycle dance world. The crowd went wild. They said things everyone had thought but couldn't say because the Sprockettes and Chain Reaction are so endearing.
I have a feeling this performance broadened the scope of bicycle performance and has given the licensce to non-dancers to think of new innovations.
The dancing was not synchronized on purpose, except at the end with a stunning rendition of Thriller. They tried to arrange souveniers for the audience, including playbils and pink and black painted condoms with the words Lame Reaction and Cockettes on them. They also made sure that the expiration date was still visible. These kids showed that D.I.Y. talent is rampant and there is no limit to how much fun can be experienced.
They should be performing the show again, because the demand for it was so poular.
Thank you, Nerds On Wheels, for making fun of my life's work and the silly mutated minibikers that congregate in seasons along Cascadia and Greater Rad America!
(These were the only photos I was able to steal from jrydevisuals on flickr.com. Any more photos would be very appreciated.)
For those who are confused about the profundity, check out:
Chain Reaction
Sprockettes
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
MiniBikeWinter09 photos
Unicycle Bastards
by SFstormfin
Team Not Sorry
by Anomalily
Sprockettes
by Agent Speakeasy
Bicycle Bells from Seattle
By SFstormfin
Team Canada
By SFstormfin
Cupcake Challenge Lookout
By Hannaotana
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Bloody bloody Valentine's Day
Next weekend will be the fifth annual Minibike Winter, a function put on by the two wheeled terrorists, The Zoobombers. Zoobombers have been a crew since 2002, "bombing" the West Hills every Sunday since that August. It began with little bikes because they were one dollar at the Goodwill, and it turned into a cultural phenomenon. They are currently in the last stages of a bicycle rack designed to keep the People's Bike Library Of Greater Portland chained up with more security, safer from looting thieves in the night.
I remember the first minibikewinter. There was an alleykitten race on minibikes, and at the end of the race there was a dance party at The Know before it was a bar. We had some music and there was definitely a naked man running through the crowd with a bandana over his head. At midnight we went to the Alberta Park and played Capture the Flag. We has a huge turnout and the competition was fierce. At about one o'clock, there were two cop cars that started offroading through the park, scattering us like cockroaches in the light.
I am digressing.
What excited me here is the next generation of extreme bikers. I can't wait to see the blood and brawn displayed as the young and the restless obliterate each other in radical rage. These games consist of circles, lines and weapons, in all different configurations. How romantic!
Trechery and Sabotage: A True Story
I was at work. It was 4:30.
I get off at 5 after I take the mail down to the mailman in the receiving room.
Homegirl Linda of Cyclecide works down there, and she called me down early to "see this email that is so fucked up". I love gossip and helpin' a sistah out.
I get down there and lean over the computer and WHAM! there is a hood over my head. Then I am getting handcuffed. I try to feel the hands to see who they are, if I can recognize them. They all had gloves on, so no luck. I look down in the hood and could make out a few shoes, none of which I recognized. They then tied my feet together. Before I could figure out what was going on, a body bag was thrown over me and my waist was tied. I had been gotten. With all of my crazy kungfu training, I couldn't get out.
They picked me up and ran me down the street to the back of a car.
They weren't talking, so I still couldn't tell who they were. I had a few guesses, but it wasn't obvious.
The music in the car was turned up very loud. It was Mozart. Very Clockwork Orange. They were driving like maniacs. I had two scarves, two hoodies, a long trenchcoat, and a hat on, underneath the hood and bodybag. I was getting extremely hot. I started writhing around. Trying to free myself of the bodybag at least. I am screaming, "I'll give you whatever you want! Let me go!"
Someone, in a disguised voice, by talking while inhaling, said that it was no use and that I was going to die. Well, I am an Agent, and I have seen countless heroic flicks where nothing can keep down the hero. So I start wrigling more and more. I get the outer belt around the bodybag loose so I can maneuver inside the bodybag. I try to untie my feet with my handcuffed hands. I don't get a chance because someone sits on me. I struggle and struggle but it gets too hot and I was hyperventilating. I had to stop and chill. I was thankful they didn't hit me because it would have been so easy. The heat was unbearable with all my layers and my adrenaline. I took the time to try to figure out my surroundings. I was feeling the kidnapper atop me for signs of who it was. I touched through the bodybag some of the objects in the back of the car. I felt like I was in the movie Sneakers and I needed to be aware of my surroundings in case I made it out alive, I would be able to put the details together to catch these culprits.
I am slowly moving my feet to my chest, to continue in my plight to untie my feet. That should give me more ability to kick or run should I get the chance. At this point I think I know who's car I am in because of the crinkly sun protector I keep rubbing against. I pull off the hood with my bound hands and try to peer through the zipper holes in the bodybag, to get a head count of who is in the car. The person sitting on me doesn't allow this. Damn. This is hard! I keep trying, and I vaguely make out three more masked heads, more like black blurrs through the zipper holes.
We come to a stop. I am bummed because I wasn't paying attention to the directions we turned, and I have no idea where we ended up. They get out, except the person subduing me. It is then I realize that the handcuffs aren't all the way tight. They are not the joke handcuffs, they are real. No secret escape latch. I need keys. But I can slip them off, in a very painful way. Here I am in a bodybag, free hands, bound feet, and a captor laying on me. I pull off my scarves thinking I might be able to use them as ties. I unzip the bottom of the bag and get my feet out in a breathy struggle. This exposes the villians feet. I connect one of the handcuffs around their foot. As I am trying to get their hand as they are struggling with the new developement of the footcuff. They close the handcuff so I can't get it around them. They don't remember that if there is nothing holding the cuff in place, it can swing around and it is open again. We struggle for a while more. By this time I am determined to win. I eventually get one of their hands in the cuff and from there I overpower them all together. I pull of the skimask and see my friend KT. Oh you are going to get it. I put her skimask on, and put my hood over her head. Then I stick her in the bodybag. I am sitting on her, with her skimask on, periodically banging on the side of the car yelling, " Let me out!!!" to throw the other folks off the trail. The car's windows are steamed up, but I can see that we are at the docks. This is a popular skateboarding spot, and I bet the young boarders are very curious what is going on in the shaking car over there with the screams coming out of it. The other team members had gone to procure a canoe. When they return to let us out of the trunk, I take off running. They are befuddled at first, but take off after me. The skaters have stopped and are staring. A woman walking her dog is gaping in horror at the sight of a skimasked girl running for her life with three nylon faced people running after her. The captors realize what has happened because I only have one shoe on and the other girl has freed herself from the bodybag.
To my chagrin, they catch me. The hood goes back over my head. This time they double handcuff me and lead me to the water. We carefully get in the boat. I can't see what is going on and now the game has gotten more serious. It is hard to swim while double handcuffed, I imagine. The skiff we are in starts accumulating water. They are paddling with all their might. Are they going to dump me over? If 007 could get out of this, I still can. My feet are getting wet, and the boat almost tips over a few times. We come to a stop, and they guide me up an embankment. As soon as everyone gets out of the flooding boat, they take off my hood and handcuffs and we are on a barge a friend made called the Golden Goose.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" they yell. In front of me are my four favorite people in the world with black makeup around their eyes and triumph lighting them. They have a bottle of booze, some princess food, and a campfire on the way.
What a great birthday present. A girl couldn't ask for anything better.
We spent the rest of the night laughing and drinking as the lights of the bay shined and sparkled on the best November 25th I have ever had.
I get off at 5 after I take the mail down to the mailman in the receiving room.
Homegirl Linda of Cyclecide works down there, and she called me down early to "see this email that is so fucked up". I love gossip and helpin' a sistah out.
I get down there and lean over the computer and WHAM! there is a hood over my head. Then I am getting handcuffed. I try to feel the hands to see who they are, if I can recognize them. They all had gloves on, so no luck. I look down in the hood and could make out a few shoes, none of which I recognized. They then tied my feet together. Before I could figure out what was going on, a body bag was thrown over me and my waist was tied. I had been gotten. With all of my crazy kungfu training, I couldn't get out.
They picked me up and ran me down the street to the back of a car.
They weren't talking, so I still couldn't tell who they were. I had a few guesses, but it wasn't obvious.
The music in the car was turned up very loud. It was Mozart. Very Clockwork Orange. They were driving like maniacs. I had two scarves, two hoodies, a long trenchcoat, and a hat on, underneath the hood and bodybag. I was getting extremely hot. I started writhing around. Trying to free myself of the bodybag at least. I am screaming, "I'll give you whatever you want! Let me go!"
Someone, in a disguised voice, by talking while inhaling, said that it was no use and that I was going to die. Well, I am an Agent, and I have seen countless heroic flicks where nothing can keep down the hero. So I start wrigling more and more. I get the outer belt around the bodybag loose so I can maneuver inside the bodybag. I try to untie my feet with my handcuffed hands. I don't get a chance because someone sits on me. I struggle and struggle but it gets too hot and I was hyperventilating. I had to stop and chill. I was thankful they didn't hit me because it would have been so easy. The heat was unbearable with all my layers and my adrenaline. I took the time to try to figure out my surroundings. I was feeling the kidnapper atop me for signs of who it was. I touched through the bodybag some of the objects in the back of the car. I felt like I was in the movie Sneakers and I needed to be aware of my surroundings in case I made it out alive, I would be able to put the details together to catch these culprits.
I am slowly moving my feet to my chest, to continue in my plight to untie my feet. That should give me more ability to kick or run should I get the chance. At this point I think I know who's car I am in because of the crinkly sun protector I keep rubbing against. I pull off the hood with my bound hands and try to peer through the zipper holes in the bodybag, to get a head count of who is in the car. The person sitting on me doesn't allow this. Damn. This is hard! I keep trying, and I vaguely make out three more masked heads, more like black blurrs through the zipper holes.
We come to a stop. I am bummed because I wasn't paying attention to the directions we turned, and I have no idea where we ended up. They get out, except the person subduing me. It is then I realize that the handcuffs aren't all the way tight. They are not the joke handcuffs, they are real. No secret escape latch. I need keys. But I can slip them off, in a very painful way. Here I am in a bodybag, free hands, bound feet, and a captor laying on me. I pull off my scarves thinking I might be able to use them as ties. I unzip the bottom of the bag and get my feet out in a breathy struggle. This exposes the villians feet. I connect one of the handcuffs around their foot. As I am trying to get their hand as they are struggling with the new developement of the footcuff. They close the handcuff so I can't get it around them. They don't remember that if there is nothing holding the cuff in place, it can swing around and it is open again. We struggle for a while more. By this time I am determined to win. I eventually get one of their hands in the cuff and from there I overpower them all together. I pull of the skimask and see my friend KT. Oh you are going to get it. I put her skimask on, and put my hood over her head. Then I stick her in the bodybag. I am sitting on her, with her skimask on, periodically banging on the side of the car yelling, " Let me out!!!" to throw the other folks off the trail. The car's windows are steamed up, but I can see that we are at the docks. This is a popular skateboarding spot, and I bet the young boarders are very curious what is going on in the shaking car over there with the screams coming out of it. The other team members had gone to procure a canoe. When they return to let us out of the trunk, I take off running. They are befuddled at first, but take off after me. The skaters have stopped and are staring. A woman walking her dog is gaping in horror at the sight of a skimasked girl running for her life with three nylon faced people running after her. The captors realize what has happened because I only have one shoe on and the other girl has freed herself from the bodybag.
To my chagrin, they catch me. The hood goes back over my head. This time they double handcuff me and lead me to the water. We carefully get in the boat. I can't see what is going on and now the game has gotten more serious. It is hard to swim while double handcuffed, I imagine. The skiff we are in starts accumulating water. They are paddling with all their might. Are they going to dump me over? If 007 could get out of this, I still can. My feet are getting wet, and the boat almost tips over a few times. We come to a stop, and they guide me up an embankment. As soon as everyone gets out of the flooding boat, they take off my hood and handcuffs and we are on a barge a friend made called the Golden Goose.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" they yell. In front of me are my four favorite people in the world with black makeup around their eyes and triumph lighting them. They have a bottle of booze, some princess food, and a campfire on the way.
What a great birthday present. A girl couldn't ask for anything better.
We spent the rest of the night laughing and drinking as the lights of the bay shined and sparkled on the best November 25th I have ever had.
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