The Death of The Stinky

30 09 2009

Coming off my collarbone incident about 7 weeks ago I had been itching to get back into the race scene.  My shoulder was feeling good again and I had been riding trail and hitting drops for a couple weeks and figured I was good to go for the last Fluidride Cup of the year at Mt. Hood, Oregon.  With our bikes, gear, a cooler of PBR and Sparks, and some Chili Peppers on the stereo we took off Saturday morning and made our way to the race. We arrived and I got registered so I could start my practice. I had only been to Ski Bowl once before and the upper lift had not been running so I was only familiar with the lower section of the course. I scouted my lines and put down some clean runs towards the end of practice and was feeling pretty good about my first race back. After practice we headed back to the car and got changed, drank some Sparks and got ready to head up the road to see the premier of “Barred for Life” at one of the local bars. Afterwards, we headed back to camp and drank some more brew, pissed off some old people, and headed to bed. It was a successful night.

                Sunday morning I was greeted with the awful taste of stale beer in my mouth and a cold breeze blowing through the parking lot. We cooked up some breakfast burritos, geared up, and headed over to the lift for the morning practice run. I hopped on the first lift with another racer. We chit chatted about our collarbone injuries and about how f*$king cold it was because of the wind. I was shivering pretty good by the time we unloaded. We headed down the fire road a bit and loaded up on the upper lift to make the final accent to the top of the race course. We get about half way up the lift when I hear the clang of metal on metal. We both turn around in time to watch my Stinky tumbling down the side of the mountain bouncing off rocks and branches on its way down. My jaw dropped and all I could utter  was, “No. F-ing way.”

At the top of the lift I inform the lifties what had happened and took the lift back down to retrieve my bike. I tried to be optimistic, but I knew it was going to be bad. Everyone on their way up was asking me if the bike down there was mine, then I get told there are two bikes that have fallen off the lift. When I get to the bottom the crew has already stopped letting people on the lift and I headed up the side of the hill with the other unfortunate soul to retrieve our bikes. The damage was pretty bad. From the initial inspection I saw bent bars, broken brakes, scratched stanchions, and a bent drailleur hanger. With no parts to fix the wreckage I ended up riding one of the rental bikes, an 08 Shore with no chain guide, for my practice and race runs and it was uncomfortable to say the least. My practice run consisted of my chain falling off and me dumping the bike about 3 times. My race run went a bit better, I was able to pedal the chain back on a couple times and I didn’t dump the bike. I ended up mid pack 14th out of 28 with a time of 3:03. After the race finished up I got to take a better look at the bike and talk with the operations manager. I found a dent on the bottom tube, bent forks, bent cranks, and bent linkage along with all the previous damages listed. The bike was done. I told the manager there was no way I was ever riding on that bike again after watching it fall 60’ into a pile of rocks and it would need to be replaced. She told me to get a second opinion from the bike shop and we would take care of it. Of course the shop agreed with me and I will find out in a couple days what they plan on doing to make it right.

And the legacy of the Stinky is over

 -Jimmy

RIP 2002- September, 27 2009

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