In our 2nd hit for the PIFI Series we venture to the corner of 34th & Lyndale Ave. South in the Six Uno Two to chat up and visit in on Hurl Everstone, proprietor deluxa-traordinaire of Cars R Coffins.
Hurl [AKA: Tom], 40 years young, grew up in North Dakota, dug bikes [particularly BMX] & Punk [particularly Punk]... and still does. Literate, literal, degree'd in Egnlush from the University O' Minnesota: Hurl, at minimum, dents the mold of the Troubled American Youth [i.e. Punk Rock + BMX'ers = Wanted By Your Local Township Law Enforcement] growing up to be worth less than a damn. The guy has seen more of the world via bicycle than you have seen of your town via car-n-bike, owns his own gig, makes a seriously mean caffe, can work some serious black juju with the written word [I dig folks who can write well ~LFoaB], and is just one very solid guy.
Let's get it on...
Bismarck, North Dakota. January 19, 1968
I grew up in a family of 5 kids; I was second from the youngest. My first bike was a hand-me-down Schwinn Lil' Tiger from my older brother. Dad took the training wheels off when I was 3 years old. I rode all over the neighborhood, and from that point on was constantly on the bike, tearing it apart and putting it back together on the front steps of our house. My brothers and sisters rode, too, but of the five, I'm the only one who became fanatical about it. Still am...
Never really thought about this, but at the risk of sounding like a cliché, I might have to say Jack Kerouac. That never-ending quest to find out what's around the next bend in the road is part of why I love adventure riding.
If I HAD to pick, I would say riding in to Saigon, during our 9-week tour of Cambodia & Vietnam in 2003. There is all manner of contraptions vying for the roadway, there are no "rules," it's pure chaos–buses, trucks, cars, motos, scooters, push-carts, cyclers, absolute madness. And yet it flows like water.
Christ, that's like 13+ years. Wouldn't you get rickets, or something? I guess it would be the southwestern turkey sandwich w/jalapeño bacon, from Grumpy's downtown. The keyword: Bacon.
Certainly she must've been mishandled by her, uh, "handlers" as she came into the public eye, but seriously, who fucking cares?
The fixed gear explosion has hatched a whole lot of "experts" which is generally exuded by the attitudes on bike forums. But then again the reality is that I don't give a fuck; I just get on with it.
#8. Single trend about bikes that makes your mellow shine?
The seeming embrace of utility/cargo bikes, and urban cycling which encompasses all facets of cycling.
Dirt: Soulcraft Plowboy singlespeed. It's a telepathic singletrack slayer.
and then I went to the Army Surplus store and bought a few sticks of dynomite. On the way out to the desert, we bought 3 cases of Budweiser, a 1.75 of Jim Beam, and a cord of firewood. Blew that fucking thing up in a beautiful mushroom cloud of pyrotechnics, drank all the bud, and washed it down with the Beam. All in the glow of a huge bonfire....
Black Mountain- "In The Future"
I was a young bmxican, probably 14 years old, thought I was pretty cool. Rolled up to the curb heading to the Prospector Arcade at Gateway Mall. I lifted my front wheel and set it down right on the apex of the curb, sending me into an over-the-bars endo right in front of two older high school kids, who immediately burst into laughter. I got up slowly, locked my bike in the rack and slinked past the still-laughing duo.
No, but a black cat just crossed my path....
I was messing around in a sketch book, working on ideas for a 'zine when the phrase just tumbled out. That was in the spring of 1994. In Bismarck, ND.
Not as many as you might think. 1, maybe 2. These days, I'm more into tea.
I'd recommend a Soulcraft Dirtbomb; it's the ultimate do anything, go anywhere cycle. I'd charge him full-pop, and maybe have him hook me up with some sweet musical gear. And I'd tell him to beat the shit out of Kid Rock already...
Outside of the coffee bar hours, I set my own schedule, don't have to answer to a "boss," nor sit in a cubicle all day. One of my favorite sayings is, "I'm never not working." Which is a direct corollary of 'hustlers never work, and workers never hustle.'
Never have, never have wanted to. But Olivia Newton John was very hot to a junior high lad...
Ninja, pleez. I'd derby that bitch into the dirt. Rubbin's Racin'!
That bastion of technology, folks, electronic mail:
Or better, drop by the shop:
CRC Coffee Bar/Cykel Garage-3346 Lyndale Avenue South-Mpls, MN. 55408.