Tuesday, July 11, 2006

The F.B.C is F.U.N (continued)

I going to start this out with a disclaimer:

The Fucking Bike Club is bigger than words.

No words could possible convey the amount pure joy that was experienced on one of the greatest adventures of my life. As fun as this ride may look to those of that didnt experience it, just multiply that by awesome-finity and then try to imagine something twice as fun as that.

Noon at the Hi-Pointe. Chris Moesby visits the vomitorium. Scott's tire eagerly awaits its first flat tire of the day (while lying untouched on the sidewalk). Peat is not left behind thanks to Scott's flat tire.

On the road, kind of. We make it all the way to the Schnucks on Lindell before making our first much needed rest stop. Brian, a.k.a Saddlebags, gives me a dashing chest piece. I think it makes me look quite handsome. FBCers buy beer and sandwiches and apply sunblock.

we make our way down town to the riverfront trail where Andy and John once found a dismembered human carcass stuffed into a well. Our crew checks out the where the dismembered human carcass was found. It is no longer there.

Scott's second flat tire. The crew enjoys the down time to hamm it up for the camera and read some poem or something written on the flood wall. Billy spits water through his teeth. I tell everybody already for the 10th or 11th time how proud i am of them and what a great day it is.


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