The NYC halloween season is in full swing by the time Bike Kill rears its ugly head.
Whats a bike kill? no one really knows. but every year, the Black Label Bike Club digs through their piles of abandoned frames and spare parts and welds them together into mutant steeds of steel and glory. bike kill takes all the danger of a high speed alleycat and crams it into a one block cul de sac behind the home depot.
Ben, my former roommate with an advanced degree in festivals, dropped into Brooklyn to “study” bike kill.
we arrived early, to find the black label wielding power tools, building some kind of ramp system. they appeared sober, and possibly dangerous. One gave me the look of a mother grizzly protecting her cubs, so ben and I locked up our bikes and took a stroll down the block to Tiny Cup for a quick coffee. We killed an hour chatting, then walked across clifton to grab two flasks of whiskey.
since we would be drinking in public, we needed some kind of concealment device. Ben, always a quick thinker, picked up some duct tape at the bodega and we wrapped our bottles.
By the time we got back to the bike kill, the festivities were in full swing. The street was full of smiles and crashes. There was public urination with old friends and sharing tacos with new ones.
Ben and Kels rock the SurfBike - photo by nick james
Kelsey rocked the surf bike like an actual surfboard. she could go from lying down to standing up… it almost seemed like she was catching a wave.
Jack Crank takes the Steamroller bike for a ride - By Ed Glazer
An epic bread fight marked the end of free play and the hour of serious business was at hand. 6 pack attack, foot down, and the usual reindeer games kind of meld together into one game thats called drink a beer while riding tall bikes and having shit thrown at you. everyone’s a winner.
As the sun went down, and bike jousting was about to begin, I herded the crew up onto the parking lot fence (aka the skybox). the view was great, and despite clinging to a fence 12 feet off the ground, i felt it was the safest area on the block
TheJake - By Nick James
“jake, you’re the marlboro man for the new millennium. you represent good times, drugs, chest hair and wide-open skies. blog readers fear your freedom. they fear your white jeans – pointing nelsonlike with every square inch of their bleached denim at the maelstrom of beer, sex, and wet pita – and heartily “hanh-hanh”ing as glass rained up upon them as you tossed another empty 40 bottle under the metal wheels of the gyrotank.” ~visitor
Luke broke his ankle before bike kill even started - By Ed Glazer
“i am not a furry” ~luke.
Kill it with Fire - By Ed Glazer
Fawn - By MaryLynne
The FakeWork Girls - by Gluten Free Andy
The fakework girls show up at everything fun in brooklyn, and set the bar one notch higher.
…and the winner of bike kill is…
DannyRocks by JamieNYC
From up on the fence i saw a dude being wheeled out on a surfbike. i had no idea what happened, but he didn’t look good. Later i found out it was Danny Rocks. Bike Kill broke his ankle. Fortunately, it will be rebuilt with titanium.
after the jousts, the rain started coming down harder. that was our cue for naked dance party. the crowd was full of all kinds of weird energy, and we were just getting warmed at 8pm when the Permit expired. Coaches turned to pumpkins and our lovely DJ’s closed up shop.
We walked down the block to the chicken hut for the afterparty. good times, as usual. Stachemaster and Dirtyfinger got everyone dancing. unfortunately, someone stole Inge and Kelsey’s bags from the party. Both had digi camera’s in them, and it was a really sad ending to a wild day.
