| | 9/19/00 |
| | 22:17:00 |
| | Subject |
| | Fast Times at the Bike Messenger World Championships |
| | Body |
| | >From the Village Voice: |
| | Published September 20 - 26, 2000 |
| | |
| | |
| | Fast Times at the Bike Messenger World Championships |
| | Spin City |
| | by Michael Kamber |
| | |
| | The air is filled with shouts and the sound of skidding tires as riders jump |
| | from their still-rolling bikes and sprint to the dispatch station. Jostling |
| | like hungry men on a breadline, they push forward shouting, "Dropping |
| | off—stamp me, stamp me," or "I need a package—I'm going long." Moments later, |
| | they're running alongside their bikes, vaulting into the saddle in mid stride |
| | as supporters hand off water bottles and shout encouragement: "Do it for San |
| | Francisco. Go, motherfucker!" |
| | |
| | Through the din, a voice comes over a radio: "He's liquored up, brown Bianchi |
| | coming to you." The race marshal gives a "roger" and flags down the weaving |
| | offender as he pulls into the pickup station. "You're drunk—out of the race," |
| | he tells the spiky-haired, shirtless rider (later identified as "Willie from |
| | Boston"), gently leading him by the arm away from the bedlam. |
| | |
| | "Who the hell wants to race for four hours anyway?" replies Willie. "Give me |
| | a beer." High-fives are exchanged as his support team rushes up, struggling |
| | with a cooler and a portable radio blasting the Cro-Mags. Willie pops the top |
| | on a cold Schaeffer, takes a long pull, and watches the sweating, frenetic |
| | riders for a moment. "Hey guys," he calls out, "only three hours, 40 minutes |
| | to go." |
| | |
| | Five hundred and fifty messengers from 25 countries descended on |
| | Philadelphia's Fairmount Park last weekend for the Eighth Annual Bike |
| | Messenger World Championships, a gathering equal parts bacchanal and |
| | carnage-strewn athletic event. (Originally slated to take place in Boston, |
| | the competition was moved to Philly after a Beantown messenger knocked a |
| | Federal Reserve Bank executive into a coma.) While some riders train hard for |
| | the event, many view it primarily as an opportunity to establish friendships |
| | with their global counterparts; past host cities have included Zurich, San |
| | Francisco, and Barcelona. |
| | |
| | But the competition's international makeup has brought with it cultural |
| | tensions. Alongside the three-mile course, Stephanie Larkin and her heavily |
| | tattooed fiancé, Sean Terwilliger, both Philadelphia messengers, shout |
| | encouragement to friends from the shade of a maple tree. But they remain |
| | silent as scores of tall, blond riders storm by—each sporting thighs that |
| | appear sculpted of bronze Plasticine. |
| | |
| | "Those Danes are pros," says Larkin, pointing to the identically spandexed |
| | riders. "They come over here every year and kick our asses and it really |
| | pisses me off." Before the race, Jasper Jensen, the reigning European bike |
| | messenger world champion, denied charges of professionalism. "Our advantage |
| | is that we wait until after the race to party," he said, sitting next to his |
| | $2000 18-speed Colnago. But he admitted that many Europeans are part-time |
| | messengers who use the job to stay in shape when they're not competing in |