I wish I could say that I ran into Les Claypool or Too Short in Old Oaktown, but no. Times have changed, and the other velociraptors were at home gorging themselves on organs and organic meats of various sorts. Not to worry. I can listen to them on tape.
Ridin' in the redwoods turns out to be quiet a pleasurable experience, even with a broken pump and a rear tire leaking air. Caught onto some good psi karma by riding a front wheelie the last few miles.
Oh, and based on my subjective poll, ordinary people express doubt and fear when presented with a Stompareeja on one's head, while of course true stompaz just laugh and point...
After that ride, and before the next, I sought out the local crew. (I'm sure they know they'z stompaz, but maybe not so sure that's what its called)
I had found these boys online some time ago, and it was purely by cozmic coincidence that I stumbled into their shop.
http://www.myspace.com/broaklandbicycles
Sweet track and track-like townies, with a definitive East Oakland edge. (even thought they're on Piedmont Ave)
Fo Sho see them at SSWC08.
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