It was amazing that no one got carted away in an ambulance. The seventh annual Dead Baby Bike Race went down kamikaze-style on Beacon Hill last Friday, August 1. Between 100 and 200 fearless cyclists shot down hills, under the West Seattle Bridge, and through Friday-evening traffic, competing for the ultimate prize: The winner's name is stamped on a trophy (featuring a dead baby with spikes through it) that he or she can keep for a full year. The downhill champion this year was the Mohawked Nick Fig, who later explained his secret as the following: "There is only one strategy: Go fast"--which he later amended to add, "and look good. Or look like a dork."
The downhill race was pretty straightforward: Get from point A (a Beacon hill bar) to point B (a large warehouse under the West Seattle Bridge) first, taking whatever route you like. (There was a second, simultaneous race, which I heard required bikers to make a couple of stops, messenger-style, before hitting the finish line.) Last year's downhill winner, ABC messenger and then-first-time competitor The Nar, said that for him this meant following the rules of the road. "I did it buck naked, so I didn't want to go to jail," he said. "I just pedaled as fast as I could--with the word 'rookie' written across my ass--and won."
For this race, I wanted to see as much risk as possible, so I parked myself at a busy intersection connecting two steep hills to watch the race take over the post-rush-hour traffic. Amazingly, the spills were pretty small. Considering that the bikes ranged from oversized-wheel choppers to mini bikes barely large enough to cart a preteen around, the lack of blood and bruises was impressive. (Dead Baby Bikes, the race's host and organizer, is an underground custom-made-bike and bike-repair shop in Seattle--hence the high number of unusual-looking crafts.)
But the race wasn't the only chance to rack up war wounds. There was a big party at the finish line, where the entertainment for the evening--besides lots of rock from the Black Panties, the Ones, Tyco Party, and Camarosmith (who actually sang a cover of "Free Bird")--involved drinking beer out of Dead Baby Bikes water bottles and watching bike jousting. This sporting event consisted of two bicycling gladiators racing toward each other and attempting to knock their opponent off his or her bike using a weapon made out of PVC pipe, with a boxing glove on the end. I watched warrior after warrior throw competitors in the gravel, Mad Max-style, and yet everyone I saw was able to get up and walk away (proof, once again, that there is no tougher creature alive than the bike messenger). The evening's activities later morphed into gravel wrestling, raffles for tattoos and custom-made bikes, making out in the bathroom stalls (a female event), and attempting to hit on the chick who was topless except for her duct-taped nipples (a losing male battle). Overall, the renegade race/party was such a blast that even the cops had to get in on the action in the end--as I was leaving they arrived in three squad cars to cart off what I heard was some underage kid with a beer in his hand. Must've been a slow night for real crime in the city.
Other bits of news: Doomsday 1999, the awesome three-piece metal act that took over where Teen Cthulhu left off, will be performing at the Little Theatre on Sunday, August 10, as a special treat for the audience of Point Break Live! (a theatrical comedy that includes Doomsday members in its cast, and a rotating lineup of Keanu Reeves characters).... In its continuing attempt to diversify its roster beyond all that grunge stuff, Sub Pop recently signed noise mavens Wolf Eyes to its catalog, and will be releasing a new record from that act early next year... and I made my way over to Woodinville last Thursday to watch Plum St. perform at the Red Hook brewery as an opener to the beer company's summer movie sessions. The trio (of guitar, cello, and drums), which is also competing in Red Hook's emerging-band contest, sounds a lot like Radiohead circa OK Computer--and when the singer, a dead ringer at times for both Thom Yorke and Muse's frontman, took the piano near the end of the set, the music's relative closeness to Radiohead's "Karma Police" was unmistakable. Great band to listen for in the future.
