Monday, June 21, 2010


While I can't imagine anything more horrifying than riding a hundred miles on a mountain bike I understand that there are plenty of you Crazy Bastards that think it's not only challenging, but fun, as well. With so many ardent Lumberjack riders in our midst, I find it strange that no one has posted and any news or photos from this highly painful event. Not being there, the only thing I can provide are images of Lumberjacks. Above is that giant statue Lumberjack that you'll find outside of parks and gift shops and has to be an icon of highway Americana. I really liked him as a kid. His axe was so big he could have cut the family station wagon in-two! Why he didn't, I haven't a clue.
Of course there's always the cartoon Lumberjack. I was always very fond of his companion, Babe the Blue Ox. I lumped this character together with Casey at the Bat, and the other Casey, Casey Jones, the suicidal, folk-lore train engineer that crashed to save a bunch of people. I could never figure out how that worked.
Then there's the fake Lumberjack. This guy looks a little Stoogish, doesn't he? Disgusting buddy.

Not disgusting at all is the dream girl Lumberjack. Can that girl handle a chainsaw or what? And her own knee pads? Well now. But word of caution: I'd sleep with one eye open when she's in camp, boys. "Timber!"

And then there's the singing and partying Lumberjack. This is what I think actually happens after the race. The Lumberjack, with an extremely sore ass, sings in a very high key to his girl, and his 29er Mountie support team. They all get "Jacked-Up" on Founders and have a good croon together as the sun sets over the Manistee National Forest. Maybe they're singing something like: "I'm a Lumberjack and I'm Okay, I wear 29er wheels as I ride away ..." and so on. But you never know with mountain bikers, do you?

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