I hope I'm not the only one confused by this...

I'm not giving up, I'm finished...

So after serious deliberation Marc and I have decided to end our fight
against terminal employment disease.

Why? Well a few reasons. For those of you who know me somewhat better
than just the casual friend you'll know that a few years back I used to
get panic attacks, which are quite difficult to describe. Have you ever
seen a televangelist breathe the spirit of christ into someone, it's
like that but scary not being able to control your own body.

Yesterday while riding I broke out into uncontrollable tears through the
day and at one point fell off my bike and had serious trouble breathing,
my own personal warning that a more serious bout was about to come. It
took me about two and half years of professional guided help to get
these under control and its something I don't think i'll be able to do
on my own.

While I can't explain it exactly why this came about I think it has to
do with a few reasons:

1. Part of the reason I origanlly got these was due to an anxiousness
and overwhelming feeling I would get around people or not having the
chance to "have my own space". Spending everyday with someone and living
in extremely close quarters (a 6x6 tent) only catalyzed that
uncomfortable feeling.

2. By not getting my own space, I become quite irritable and rather
unpleasent, which I believe would not be fair to Marc, one of my
absolute closest friends.

3. For about a week and half now I've had pains in my chest and throat
which I can only believe comes from not reading and writing on a daily
basis, my passion in life. This my sound absurd, but if you are really
dedicated to something, you'll know what I'm talking about. The
enviroment I'm currently living in does not allow me to do those things
to the degree that I want.

4. Part of this trip was to really understand what's important and what
the next step in our lives will be. I know where I want to be going in
life and for a lack of better term, every day riding will almost be like
a waste. Not that I don't love riding, there are just other things I
want to do.

5. If I were to continue riding, it would just feel like work, which is
the exact reason we set out on this tour to avoid work.

This trip has been nothing but amazing experiences that have brought
about a completely new understanding of life. Just last night we stayed
with a bike club called the dead baby bikers at their holy place, the
church of the bicycle jesus. They even gave us their own bike chain
crucifixes and had us recite the bicycle jesus prayer.

Are we just closing up shop like that? Hell no; for the next week we'll
be touring the pacific rim of canada before returning to Seattle, where
Marc and I will go our seperate ways. Expect a few more updates.
--Scott E. Blozie

Some more photos

You can see the whole sets here and here

10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...ZOOBOMB

The tradition of Portland and it's amazing bike scene, Zoobomb.



If you're here on a Sunday night you HAVE to go Zoobombing. I've wanted to do it since the first time I was here a few years ago, I asked Jackie what that pile of bikes outside Rocco's was for. She responded that Zoobombers ride the MAX up with them and then ride those minibikes down the hill. I looked at her like what a good idea. Well this time Scottie, Molly and I got to do it. We waited at Rocco's for 45 minutes or so and finally, the man with the combination to the bike pile showed up. We slid in casually in hopes of claiming a "pile bike". After some debate among the locals and the tourists, Handsome Dave as he's called gave the tourists the bikes cause the locals can do it anytime. After his long speech about dangerous and scary the bomb down the mountain is and how crashes can and do happen. He made us fill out some info including our birth date in case we get knocked unconscious, the fireman or EMT has something to check your brain function with, AWESOME. We had to write down our addresses as well just to give them something to harass us with if we didn't bring the pile bikes back at the end of the evening. After that we ride off on the mini bikes to the MAX station in our miniature parade of about 80 people altogether. We weren't all in the same place at the same time except at the top of the hill for the first couple of runs. When the gang gets of the MAX we have to pile into and elevator to the top. Then it is a short walk to the top on trails. The top is interesting, it's a bunch of crust punks and DIY kids and a random array of others. Everyone was really nice about welcoming us to the tradition and asking us how it was. I talked with a kid about the different welding techniques and we got to ride one of the tall bikes. Also at the top there was a big meeting about how the cops are cracking down and a specific list of rules they wanted everyone to follow. They sent down scouts thought to make our ride more enjoyable. No run ins with the law happened that night. Other than that it's just common courtesy on the way down, "on your left", when passing or "on your right" when passing.



The whole experience just taps into the core elements of joy and fun, like going down a slide, WEEEEEEEEEEEE! That's the majority of it is going down a hill really fast. Then you add the tiny bike, the "thick as thieves" camaraderie, and the smell of burning coaster brakes at the bottom. It's amazing, being in this giant bike gang bombing down the mountain at 30mph trying to avoid the speed wobble and blowing through stop signs in the middle of the night. I'm glad there were no bugs out cause I had a shit-eating grin from ear to ear all the way down the mountain both times.

we have more pix here:

http://s6.photobucket.com/albums/y244/Maestronoodles/ZOOBOMB/

Marc