Author Archives: "Bike Magazine"
In white Mighty Mouse boxers, Stephen lay sideways on a narrow bed. A Vancouverite, what little patches of skin he chose not to ink screamed exposure as loudly as JFK needed a limo with a roof. Hemmed by upside-down bikes and 80 pounds of camera gear, Stephen whispered, in a voice well suited to phone sex, “potato salad.” We’d certainly suffered for our art.
The big secret is that riding a singlespeed when in crap shape is a win/win situation. If I make it up a hill, people think I’m a badass. And if I only make it 10 feet before I start pushing (mostly on account of general lethargy and a slight addiction to whatever Taco Bell puts in its ‘meat’), people still say I’m a badass for even trying.
Bacon is salty and savory and, when cooked right, it crunches in your mouth before exploding with the heavenly bacon juice some people mistakenly call ‘grease’. After devouring the flaky meat-candy, you’re left with the pork equivalent of Cheeto dust covering your fingers, face and everything you touch for the next four hours. It’s as if a pig, a bag of Cheetos and those wax-bottle candies filled with sugar juice had a baby—a baby you could eat.