send in the canaries

clean as a whistle above 8000

Utah is a beautiful place, home to the "best powder on earth." But the unique geography and climate here that give powderwhores the world over something to get radical in and write home about, is also responsible for a unique brand of "inversion" - something a little more sinister than a few powdery face shots. The legendary high-pressure systems over the Great Basin that bring in retarded amounts of fluffy gnar, are also responsible for weeklong periods of stagnant temperature inversions (an air "sandwich" of sorts, with temperatures being the breads, and smog being the bologna) over the Salt Lake valley. This effect is worsened, given the bowl-shaped topography of the valley, one which happens to be filled to the stained brim with every make and model of inefficient, four-wheel-drive hooptie known to man. So now that we have our little inversion "sandwich," think of the valley as a roundish tupperware bowl. Place the sandwich inside, and we'll pop the aforementioned airtight lid of our high-pressure system on, and you'll begin to understand why SLC (despite it's comparatively small size to other cities on the list) is a surprising number six on the illustrious "most polluted" cities of the US. Granted, if you're a meteorologist or a fan of lunch-based metaphors, I'm sure this is all sorts of fucking fascinating. However, if you're a year-round cyclist such as myself, to put it rather bluntly, riding SLC inversion blows a bushel basket of beaver dicks.

the working messenger's matryoshka

big as a goddamn building

There isn't a lot about the Mission Workshop Vandal that hasn't already been said or shown; from the bag's storied pedigree, and bomber "made in the motherland" construction, to its feature-rich versatility, and all-around stability and comfort under heavy load. These things are all true, and all very awesome.

because a gallon of soymilk is six dollars

slcereal skyline

So you think a bicycle is the cheapest way to get around? It's not when you're shoving a box of cereal up your ass every ten hours. 

catastrophic levels of smug

pedal, damn it

Back in December of 2006, two days before I left Findlay, and just over a month before I moved to Japan, I sold my decrepit, barely street-legal Dodge Shadow for $200. From the photograph, I think you'll agree that I made off with several hundred dollars more than the jalopy was actually worth. Dirty money, maybe. But no regrets. Sometimes I wonder where the old Shadow is now. We had a lot of great memories together, and I almost miss that old car. But I can't honestly say that I miss having a car.

just add heroin

Now, I wouldn't ever condone not wearing a helmet when riding, but it always seemed somewhat hypocritical for me to wear one, while voluntarily riding a bike without brakes. I mean, does observing one small safety measure grant free passage to a whole host of separately irresponsible behavior? Would you insist on drinking from a glass of carefully filtered water in one hand, while scarfing down a disgusting hot pocket in the other? How rebellious! Or how about having systematically protected, missionary-style sex whilst shooting up on heroin? Whichever sounds more ironic and/or inherently dangerous--I think they both serve to illustrate my point.