I had a blast at practice on Friday.  I explored all the ramp course changes that had been made for this year, and quickly realized that this is the best set-up the bike park has ever seen.  I could especially appreciate the 8’ quarter in front of the wallride turned to vert wall, the taller sub, and the bigger space between street spine and the weird spine/landing thing.  Josh Betley and I were giving the mellow 6’ quarter a workout, between his downside tailwhip to disaster and my no-foot canadian nosepicks.  After many tries, we both managed to land a few of our respective tricks.  Later in the evening, a band set up on the rail deck and began doing the damn thing.  They lent a cool element to the atmosphere, and I was stoked to hear them play a cover of Dramarama’s “Anything, Anything (I’ll give you)”.  Not too shab, not too shab at all.

Doug, tailwhip from the vert wall into the 6'.

Saturday saw a good, old fashioned game of BIKE take place, in which I hastened to participate.  This marked the first time the Fort included any kind of unconventional contest, and it went over well.  I wouldn’t have missed it for anything; some of the best times I’ve ever had in riding have been playing MULLET (played just like BIKE, HORSE, SKATE, PARAMECIUM, etc.) on Danny “Satan” Harris’s 4’ mini in his North Phoenix backyard.  Possibly the best part about playing BIKE is that you are pushed to try stuff you might not normally try.  Case in point:  I haven’t 360’d a six foot spine ever since I broke my leg on a three on the Fort’s six foot spine two years ago.  I had been getting my confidence up, though, and I actually 360’d a 5’ spine at a contest in Mexico in October.  I originally had no plans to three the 6’ spine at the Fort this particular weekend, but someone in the game did it, and then the next guy did it, and then I had to do it if I didn’t want a letter.  Well I did that 360, and it was the game that put me in prime position to face my demons.  By the way, thanks to everyone who gave me props for that three.  I’m glad you could appreciate exactly what I was dealing with.  Overall, audience and participants alike took pleasure in the chill game of BIKE, although Andy Leland did appear to take it a little too seriously.  Andy won the game of BIKE, and picked up a cool $160 in the process.  It’s good that he won, too, because his bars stabbed him on a tailwhip bunnyhop-into-bank gone wrong during the game, and I’m sure he saw a member of the medical profession not too long afterwards. 

How’s this for another tired sentiment:  The experts rode later on Saturday, and if it was any indication of how sick the pro contest would be the following day, the pro contest would be pretty damn sick.  Tired, yes, but also true.  Josh Bierman whirled every type of ramp on the course like so many dervishes, and finished by attempting two 720’s on the street spine.  His 540 on the 8’ quarter impressed me the most.  Andy from Gilbert pulled a rad, high ass tailwhip over the 8’ gap from quarter to quarter at the wallride.  Speaking of Andy, his mom recently sold the Olympic torch she had the honor to run with back in the eighties on e-bay.  All to buy her son a 3-chip Mini DV camera with the most expensive fisheye that’s made.  A totally irreplaceable item…  Hardly the choice I would have made, but there you go.  Another standout in the expert class was John Owen’s little brother Jason.  The first time I met Jason was after I gave John a ride home from The Wedge one night.  Jason had led cheers as John double-barspun this tiny dirt hip in his parents’ Mesa backyard.  John must’ve passed the mantle on to little Jason when he stopped riding, because Jason ripped shit up at the contest.  A 360 tailtap and casually stalled overside toothpicks on the 6’ spine, a footjam nosepick on the big wallride, and a 360 nosebonk over the street spine proved to me that the student has indeed surpassed the master. 

Andy with the 6' to 6' tailwhip. 

                                                                  PJ Waxman, sit stall.

Jason Owens, overside to toothpick.

I’m sure by now you’re thinking, “Why did you have to mention the size of some dude’s cock in this article’s title?”  That’s my new thing.  If some dude that I’ve known and been cool with for years all of a sudden starts vibing me, even though I’ve never done shit to him, I have to assume it’s because he’s intimidated by my penis size.  Not that mine is super-ginormous (although it’s definitely bigger than the average male’s, which is 5.2 inches), but his must be really small.  And I don’t mean small like the way Prescott Brian talks so much about his tiny dork to get the ladies dwelling on his genitalia.  I mean really, genuinely miniscule.  So Screech was vibing me hardcore this whole weekend for no apparent reason.  Therefore he must be hung like a titmouse and he’s holding it against me.  It makes sense, though, doesn’t it?  It has long been known that guys buy “penis cars” like IROC Z’s, Firebirds, Vette’s, 70’s Camaros, and pretty much any fast, schlong-shaped machine because they are insecure about the prowess of their package.  Well guess what kind of car Ryan has.  You kids may as well learn this now, those cars are straight penis extensions…I ain’t lyin!  Hey, dude, it’s not my fault you can’t find your dick with two hands and a flashlight!  Take it up with God and leave me out of it, aiight?

Best trick was the last event of the night, and with $300 generously put up by Kronik Energy Drink, fools were gonna huck their shit.  Lots of good shit went down, but nothing too crazy until Manchild pedal-grinded the top of the wallride to come in on the vert wall.  He said when he came in, he was sure he was going to pile-drive straight into the flat ground, but the tranny caught him perfectly.  Only minutes later, Greg Litecky rocked out the trick of the day, if not the weekend.  He did Aaric DeShaw’s transfer from the wallride into the hip, helmet-free, —WITH A TAILWHIP!!!  Manchild burst onto the course to congratulate Greg immediately, cussin’ and sweatin’ and jumping around like a gorilla on truckstop speed.  That’s one trashy motherfucker right there, and I was lovin’ it!  The first words out of Greg’s mouth were, “Wear your helmets, pussies!  Wear your helmets.”  Now a smart man would never say something like that, but no one ever said Greg was a smart man.  Needless to write, Greg won best trick, and it was well-deserved.  After all of Manchild’s sweat, spit and spilt brew-ha was mopped up, regular practice ensued, with another band taking the stage to finish off the night. 

No sooner had Chuck Dogg and I pulled into the dirt parking lot at The Fort than the rain started.  It had rained in the wee hours of  Sunday morning, and the clouds made their return around 11 am.  My theory is that the Pow Wow raindancers accidentally danced a tad too vigorously on Saturday.  Sure, we want rain, we NEED rain, but we also want to finish out the festivities, right right?  For those of you that don’t know the history, The Fort BMX contest is held basically because of the Fort McDowell Yavapai Indian Reservation’s celebration of Orme Dam Days.  It provides another festivity for the younger crowd while the annual rodeo and Pow Wow take place.  I won’t go into the history of why Orme Dam Days are celebrated, but it is interesting and well worth celebrating.  Take some time and read the program you were given before parking if you went out to the comp, or dig around on the internet a little to edumacate yourself. 

After a brief but plentiful storm, peeps pulled together to sweep all the leftover rain off the street course, and it started drying.  As bad as the rain was for the ramps, it was perfect for the dirt jumps.  It was enough to motivate Ricardo Laguna from Vegas to get out there relatively early in spite of a late night of imbibing and womanizing.  The pro dirt comp was a very laid back jam wherein the riders just took turns as they had been doing in practice all day, except they stepped up the level of riding a fair bit.  The format didn’t make for a particularly exciting contest, but it worked.  The riders seemed to be having a good time, and that’s the main thing.

I had my fisheye on for this vidcap, but don't be deceived.  Joey Carberry was blasting his shit up there.  Blastin' like a mug!

The rain never made a second cameo appearance, so the ramp course was thoroughly dried by the time Pro Street began.  Let it be known that I despise the jam format for contests on ramp courses, both to film and to ride in.  When you’re filming them, you end up missing stuff that one rider is pulling because you’re filming someone else, and you’ve got to jump around a lot to keep from getting your shit ran over.  And when you’re riding in them, you have to make sure you don’t collide with anyone else while you’re trying to string together a run that could take you all over the course, plus you can’t have the audience to yourself, with your own music.  With all that said, this jam-formatted contest went probably the best it could go.  The course was plenty big enough to support two riders at once, and only five riders rode at a time.  The best thing was that the riders were respectful enough of each other to pretty much take turns on the course.  That worked out amazingly agreeably, so riders were able to have the best of both worlds:  A captive audience and clear course, but as many chances to try their tricks without wasting a run like they would if they had separate runs. 

The Pro Street trick list went like this:  Steven from Flag did a barspin 180 and a nice tailwhip over the big spine.  Adam Baker three-whipped the big spine.  Doug from Flag came soooo close to doing the same, and he had some stylish 360’s over the big spine.  KC Badger pulled a walltap to manual to 180 out.  Pete Ulibarri did a superman seatgrab over the hip.  Pete also came through with his signature triple x-up from 8’ quarter to 8’ quarter, and did this crazy lawnmower tailtap on a 6’ to boot.  Tuba Mike is still injured, so we didn’t see any manuals atop the big wall as we have in past years, but he had lip tricks out the wazz on every ramp in the place.  And then there were Danny Williams and Mr. Litecky.  Danny fired out the raddest 540 ever over the hip, not to mention a 540 tailwhip tailtap and big spine tailwhip, both in the rain.  Yeah, the rain started coming down during the last group of qualifiers.  As usual, Danny had some huge airs on the 8 foots, and he pulled a superman x-up tailwhip on one of them, too.  But Greg kept Danny from snagging first place.  Greg rode like a man possessed, running across the big wall gap, downside footplanting across the big wall gap, doing inverts to x’s, wall slaps to x’s,  turndown to x’s on the spine, and a demented superman x-up tailwhip 8’ quarter to 8’ quarter.  Greg owns The Fort.  Get used to it.

I poached some dude's flash for this vidcap of Adam Baker on the left.  Where was that bastard when I needed him for the three-whip?

I'm getting good at this flash poaching thing.  Greg Litecky, xup superman tailwhip 8' to 8'.

Watch out!  Poach Dawg in the house!  Greg with a wall run.

This hip got tagged like Pete's bike got stickered.  Pete Ulibarri, superman seatgrab on the hip.

Every time Danny went for one of these huge quarter-to-quarter airs all weekend, I could swear I heard someone gasp in awe.

Kyle “Coach” Braswell.  Now here’s a story in and of itself.  That crazy bastard was referring to the 14’ wall as “the big sub box”.  No, Coach.  The new 4’ sub is a sub box.  The 14’ wall IS A WALL!  Anywho, Coach had told me earlier on Sunday that he wanted to nosepick “the big sub box”.  During his heat in the contest, he had only tried it once when the rain started coming down.  The more times he tried sticking a nosepick atop the wall, the harder the rain came down.  Jack finally shut the qualifiers down due to slick rain ramps, and cancelled the finals.  He practically had to drag Coach down from the wallride, kicking and screaming all the way.  That boy was FOCUSED.  I have no doubt that if the rain hadn’t started, Coach would’ve pulled that goddamn “sub” nosepick, or died trying.

"It's easy, you just pedal your ass off, take off your right foot and throw back your left arm."  Thanks, Coach.

A sticker and product toss was held shortly before the pro winners were announced, and a sticker fight ensued.  Since Pete Ulibarri had ridden like such a badass in both dirt and street, but didn’t place in either, the Flag guys and myself awarded him with a fully-stickered bike.  He was seen peeling stickers off his bike long after everyone else had peaced up outta those nuts.

Ricardo Laguna, three x.

Jack had arranged a “Post Fort Contest Party” at a particularly bike friendly bar downtown for Sunday night, complete with bands, door prizes and more, but I couldn’t make it.  MB Charlie and MB Ben were going to check it out, but they didn’t make it either, so I don’t know how it went.  I liked the idea, though.  In fact, I liked the whole contest.  I think everyone else did, too, because I only heard two negative comments the entire weekend.  One was about the rain, but no one can control that shit.  The other was about the dust that permeated the air on Saturday, making shooting good photos pretty much impossible the whole day.  Funny thing is, the rain cancelled out the dust on Sunday.  It was readily apparent that Jack put a much more dedicated effort into this contest than he had in the past two years.  So congrats to Jack, Greg, and all the workers who pulled this thang off so well this year.   Hmm…looks like I’ve got space for one last  worn out statement you’ve seen in every BMX contest article ever written:  See you there next year.

                  Steven from Flag held his own rodeo a few feet over the hip.  To see some actual photography from The Fort, visit http://www.swbmx.com