Val Di Sole, round two of the 2012 UCI DH World Cup, just came and went. Our Irish spy, John Lawlor, was there to document the highs and the lows:
It was a bittersweet weekend for the Syndicate and our people. Stoked to see Minnaar maintaining his unflappable consistency, but stunned to see Aaron Gwin put such a beating on everyone. That was a lesson. Also really tough to see Cedric get as badly hurt as he did, and still not sure of how that is all going to pan out. In the video above, you’ll also see Josh Bryceland take a pretty ugly soil sample during his race run, even though he somehow managed to recover from that bell-ringer enough to still finish 37th. All in all, this served to make us all realize what a punisher Val Di Sole is. For reference on the nature of punishment at Val Di Sole, please see 2011:
That place is a beast. Just ask Sam Hill:
Or Steve Peat that same year, for that matter. Bring on Fort Bill, where we all get to speculate where the Gwin unit gets his powers from. We think it has something to do with the Ginger Magic:
Now before the carrot-tops and semi-albinos of the world get bent out of shape, bear in mind that we present the above video with the highest respect. Our head engineer is a ginger, and the guy who writes this is a closet ginger who can’t step outside without a good coat of spf80. And we dig the hell out of some Die Antwoord. So it wins in both directions. Sort of. Get your money bets rolling. Fort William is going to be a barn burner this year!
One week has passed. Time for another reaping of the hashtag #santacruzbikes. In which we all say goodbye to Will Dixon, who is fleeing our clutches for the bright lights of the big city:
Wherein Morga_Deth showed off the hardcore side to Laguna Beach (who knew??):
Whereby Seb Kemp redefines “upbeat” in the face of ugly surgery (his quote being, “when life gives you lemons, it’s best to squeeze them over fish.”):
Where our New Zealand distributor finally found some love for the wagon wheels:
And during the span of which it would seem a lot of folks got some bicycle riding done in some pretty awesome places:
Thanks to you all for riding our bikes, for seeing the world through your eyes, for sharing that view, and for inspiring us and others. Keep spreading the hashtag love! As for us, we’ll be here (well, all of us except WILL DIXON will be here), punching the clock, keeping it, as the kids say, real:
Our shipping guy keeps it more real than anyone else’s shipping guys. Check this out:
That is the middle finger of our shipping guy, Danny Buzzard, aimed straight at Glenn Danzig, Sunday night at the Warfield in San Francisco. This shot was taken seconds before Danzig decided he didn’t like being flipped off, and kicked Danny in the face. The face kicking was immediately followed by a security goon grabbing Danny from behind and choke-dragging him clean out of the show.
Yeah, we know, hating on angry fat old Danzig is about as played out as worshipping bacon or celebrating cheap canned beer, but in the same way that cheap canned beer and bacon are universal truths, realizing that Danzig is a chubby ol’ wreck living in such a state of unconscious self-parody that he kind of NEEDS to be ridiculed and flipped off at every opportunity is also a universal truth.
Danzig sucks. We all knew that already. Danny flipping him the bird was a pretty succinct expression of an emotion most people who were once into the Misfits have felt at some time or another. He should be used to getting flipped off by now. After kicking our shipping guy in the head, it’s pretty evident that Danzig’s level of suck has just skyrocketed, at least as far as we’re concerned.
If you hate Danzig too, we’ve got your back. You should ride a Santa Cruz.
Just a reminder, for all five of you who follow this new and questionably improved slice of Santa Cruz life, if you are on instagram, #santacruzbikes will subject you to our relentless stalk and poach tactics. If you work here, and are on instagram, #104bronson is how we’ll check in to see if you are working, or wasting your time taking photos of your co-workers working. Oglander, we’re onto you!
Anyway, there goes the week, here comes Memorial Weekend. Or Decoration Day as it used to be called. Here are some blatantly stolen photos to send you on your way. Thanks to all who tagged in:
The Wonder Twins, above, feet up post-demo, enjoying the blue-collar white-collar hospitality of BIKE magazine’s publisher…
The artist formerly known as Hightower snapped this pic during the Sierra Buttes Trail Stewardship North Yuba epic ride last weekend. Rat bastard…
Meanwhile, peterfoleyusa snapped this Tallboy LTc in the wild, proving to the massed speculators of MTBR.com that yes, they do exist, and yes, they are out in the world getting ridden by happy customers. Sweet…
Queezyski got artsy with his Heckler…
Masahide666 reminded us that winter still exists, somewhere…
Nickrueff got in touch with his bambi side…
And the biggest squeaky Doberman in the world spent the morning emphatically complaining about having to come in to the office today. Asshole dog…
It should be noted that Corey is the man behind the masterful Macho Taildrop film, as well as the similarly masterful Manwolf videos floating around under various guises on the internets. The reason for this video being here, however, is not to blow smoke up the ass of Mister Adams, but to blow smoke up the hindquarters of our boss, The Legend. Or, to those who know him in a less formal manner, Rob Roskopp. Please note, the above video is LONG. But the first few minutes are a gigantic Rob Roskopp/Jimbo Phillips high five. The rest of it is pretty cool, if you are into insider art and skating. But it’s not as cool as Corey Adams’ finest hour so far:
Damn, that never gets old… Changing gears, one of our Free Agents, Logan Peat, appears to have snuck into the basement of what promises to be a pretty dang entertaining summer, courtesy of Red Bull and Brandon Semenuk’s none too shabby house in the woods:
Keep an eye on that one. Lastly, but by no means leastly, we’ll leave you with this, what has to be the best damn ad for a gym ever:
Drawing a real vague circle, we can’t help but believe that Roskopp is down with Eric Kelly’s way of doing things…
As a salute to the working week, and a high five to you, our peoples, here are a few examples of how #santacruzbikes has been showing up recently on instagram. Thanks to you all for being part of the clan:
That was a quote by Garth Algar in “Wayne’s World”, one of the all time great motion pictures.
It is a sentiment that pretty accurately sums up my feelings about the speed at which technology does what it does. But, then again, every once in a while, the crushing march of tech-gnarl-ogy produces some interesting offspring. In this case, it gives us a platform to modify the ol’ blogorooni here at Santa Cruz Bicycles.
We were using wordpress at the inception of 104Bronson. It did the job, and was a good learning experience for me, old marketing stooge guy, at the same time that it provided our web guy ample opportunity to laugh at me while I played caveman with a keyboard. However, the idea behind 104Bronson was to always this hopeful vision that would somehow allow people to get a glimpse behind the curtain, see what we were about behind the rad bike facade, connect some human dots.
And after wrestling with the clunky aspects of the old blog for a while, some of us here noticed that most of the guys and gals that work here and ride bikes, as well as a bunch of the people who race our bikes all over the world, are packing iPhones and taking photos of their lives as they go, and slapping that stuff up all over instagram. Instagram plays real well with tumblr. So well that even internet special needs kids like be can figure out how to make things work. In addition to that, tumblr also makes it so easy to slap videos and type up posts that I almost enjoy that duty now. Almost.
Aaaand, there’s no avalanche of Russian spam in my email every morning. Not yet, at least (could that be contracted into “nyet?” I think so…).
So anyway, hence the switch. If you were wondering why things got so damn quiet on the blog front lately, sorry. These things happen. If you wandered in here via the old route and found this thing instead, I hope the above explanation works for you. 104Bronson is dead. Long live 104Bronson…