By: Leticia Cline
It was 55 degrees and sunny. Even the birds thought it was spring and in parts of the ice you could see a fish swim past. This is the part where the normal person would use their better judgment and talk themselves out of a such a crazy adventure but these are you're ‘run of the mill’ type of fellas and a little slush never hurt anyone.
In fact everyone who came out there that day was a hooligan looking for a crash and a good time. The camera man, Preston Burroughs, the guy that took all these awesome photos, was standing there letting the guys throw 500 lb motorcycles at his camera like it was nothing.
“Bad decisions always breed rad shots” he says casually as he tries to get enough traction to walk across the ice.
As the day went on, parts of the ice gave way thanks in part to the many burnouts (or would ice outs be more appropriate) and to the constant number of crashes and shred sessions. Cameron’s bike went for a swim, twice. All was good though and it didn’t slow him down any just like not having any gear didn’t stop him from going out. Luckily Aaron Guardado from Suicide Machine Co. was out there and had some (really small) leathers for him to borrow.
While Hoffy did standup wheelies, Graham raced by doing slides and donuts only to have Brewer come out with every determination to crash his bike, which he did. A lot. All the guys did. It was like synchronized swimming but on bikes and ice and less organized so more like what a hooligan would look like if there was a hooligan synchronized swimming event. But that’s what a day like this one was all about, roosting your friends, crashing your bikes and sitting back to laugh at it all with a couple of cold ones before going out to do it all again.
At the end of the day everyone was tired and wet, there was very little ice left by the shore to get the bikes off of the lake and the silence of exhaustion said everything. Even though it felt warm out the mountains on the beer cans were still blue. There were no podiums or trophies, no press or interviews but there was still the race banter between fellow rider and of course the ever ominous shaken can of beer to the face. And that makes for one hell of a nightcap if you ask me.