Dirty Jerz

95 miles of rain from Philly to Newark. Saw a ghetto and saw the Princeton campus. We ate a large dinner followed by a six pack of Klondike Ice Creams.

Newark is a 35 mile ride to NYC, and I tried not to view it as our final destination. I drag this out because I don't want it to end, but I am very excited and focused on getting back on the road again. I like the feeling of momentum. Its empowering to move freely, daily and without pause. I highly suggest bicycle touring as an official national pasttime.

Marie, Ryan and Justin lease a 3,000 sq ft warehouse in Newark Downtown. Its a visual feast and all who dwell there are kind and ready. We arrived at 11PM and were welcomed warmly. Brad chatted to our hosts about bikes, as they all ride. I took a shower in a giant tub set in the kitchen, separated by two layers of clear shower curtain plastic.

I got to know them a little more in the morning. We met them as arranged by our LA friend MikeBikeMike.

Ryan and Marie have toured extensively. They are building MBM's frame. Marie works as an instructor for boat building with kids, and in her sparetime gets involved in sustainable landscaping and gardening. Justin rides the cusp between school and career and dreams big and carefully.

Brad finds his plane. He left at 2PM, October 1st, for Boise, Idaho where he will attend his sister's wedding and visit with his family and Chloe, his wonderful girlfriend who is flying out from LA. He returns to NYC October 8th, until we return to LA via train on Nov 11th. This trip has officially involved trains, planes, and automobiles and bicycles.

Below is a picture of a guerrilla garden we saw on abandoned train tracks in Philly. I wanted to reference it when describing Marie. Here.

Bodymore, Redux

I don't know why, but my blog about Baltimore disappeared. Let's talk about how I can make that up to you.

My friend, how long have you been reading my blog? Are you a long time friend, or did I meet you in a gas station in Utah two months ago? Did we talk about my mileage per day, or my former job, or your childhood? Did I offer you any advice on bikes, touring, or life? Did I let Brad handle our entire exchange? I did!?! Well, that happens a lot.

Brad is the kind of person to talk for hours. Even to himself. He will smile and laugh for any reason he can. He spends hours in a land where only fun trumps logic. He is FUN. I am STORM. Our friend Sexy is DER, but that's another story. I am talking about Baltimore here.

What goes on when FUNderSTORM goes to Baltimore? We make a new lifelong friend, Pierre and sleep in his loft's spare bedroom's side-by-side twin beds, I Love Lucy style. We steam a table full of crabs and listen to FittyCent. We sip Natty Bo, Baltimore's PBR, and listen to really exciting music made by Pierre and a few of his friends and others he likes. We stroll markets of BMore, a signature architecture of this city. Lastly we storm Falls Road for a show we played for 6 party animals on bikes. We are giants. Funderstorm funderstormed Baltimore. Aight?

There, can we agree that everything's ok and you forgive me for getting the previous post deleted? Ok, good! Check out these crabs!

Nicetown

The 120 mile ride from Bodymore to Philly was serious. Very hilly topo but the air was crisp and wet. Eventually soaked and sour. I tried to taste the last sips of the sweetest adventure of my life. I wanted to remember every day and reflect a meaning from them right now.

I wanted to be able to answer the question "So, what was your favorite part of the trip?" in at least twenty different ways. I can. Ask me anytime.

We arrived late. "Late" means that we were behind our eta by six hours. "Arrived" means that we had Jason pick us and fit all all everything all of it into his Protege at 2am instead of riding the last 20 miles. Our bags sat on our trailer. I sat on Brad's lap.

(funny story insert) At the point of pickup, we stopped for Brad to fix a flat. Rain rained everywhere. We found a good 20 covered sq ft under a rusted canopy of an abandoned gas station. In ten minutes three local police squad cars arranged themselves to attack us from all angles. A stereotypical cop with a stereotypical copstache got out of his car and walked towards Brad, ten ft away, making a pumping thrust motion towards the base of the wall. Was he pumping a bomb, sawing a pole, beating a dog? He was pumping his tire. Luckily stereotypical cop was only mildly alarmed and let us roll out to find another canopy under which we'd meet Jason.

The run through Philly was all steak, no cheese. We stayed with my good friend-turned-even-better friend Jason in his many-bedroomed townhome in a many-crimed part of North Philly. If Marcus could move in, Marcus would. I don't know if it was bc I've been on the road for so long, but I attached to J's house and couches like cheez whiz to toast and sliced steak. I should one day propose that. "I want the green couch, the velvety one." My legs give a shout out to you.

We laid low and readied for the things you get ready for at the ends of adventures like these.

The Results Are In...

...for Brad's haircut.

Although the popular vote was in favor of de-mopping Brad, the number of delegates in the Familial States were enough to sway the outcome in favor of conservative grooming inaction.

Women would've wanted him, men would've wanted to be him. Due to the Electorate System, The People will not be pleased. Its an unfortunate system but its all we have.

I will be seeking re-removal this coming October, so stay tuned.

The Times They Are A-Whatever

Its obviously one of the most interesting times in recent American History. The news stories astonish daily, and the fate of the very lands we have crossed won't be the same by the time our little bike tour ends. I can't be concise about this; I could write this blog to be 1,000s of words. But since pictures are worth 1,000, I will shoot for 1,000.

The Itch

The end is most definitely in sight. I think about it ten hours a day. We smelled the country we are from. We smell like the country we are from.

When I think about going back to homebase, I realize that I don't have one. Will I ever not be on vacation? I now give up vacations in favor of adventures.

I am happy and unsettled. I have nerve damage in my hands and wrists from this tour. My arms fall asleep faster than I do every single night. I will get new handlebars, but I am one step closer to being able to touch fire with my hands.

Brad's Haircut and You

If you want me to give Brad this haircut (see artist's rendition), please call or text him and let him know.

Let's Play Befriend

Meet inspiring people from all over, stay friends with them for years, introduce them to your grandchildren.

Steady Diet Of Nothing

Buy one good cycling outfit, make it yours, wear it til its see-through.

Trans Am What I Am

Ditch the maps, get an atlas, ride all night.

Picnic Table Blues

I am CANNOT SLEEPING on a picnic table in Berea, KY. Some college kids woke us up and we told them about our tour and they came back with sandwiches. They are coming back tomorrow morning to wake us and sneak us into their dorm cafeteria.

Bless Our Little Hearts

We stayed a luxurious 4 nights at my grandparents house in Hamilton, Ohio. They filled us full of love and sandwiches. We ate, chatted, laughed, churched, napped, bluegrassed, chilled, sang, drove around, and kicked it all day. It was a really peaceful time, and was really restorative in ways we didn't know we needed.

Two quick notes. My grandparents pretty much adopted Brad. He is their boy now. They really got a kick out of him.

My gp's were super proud about us and bragged about us everywhere we went. Grandma called the local paper and got me interviewed by a reporter. We will be in The Hamilton Journal today or tomorrow. The pic below is from the interview my Grandpa have them.

Aint No Green Party

...like a West Cliff Green Party cuz a West Cliff Green Party has hot dogs.

Below are pics from a month ago's visit to a West Cliff, CO Green Party Rally at The Dawg Haus.

Pilot Knob Bonus Pics

I miss Missouri, Pilot Knob, Jason. We had some good times in not that much time!

Its hard to keep moving on when your instincts are to chill somewhere. 24 hours was not enough time to kick it in Pilot Knob. Hope I see. Jason and the punks sometime soon. He had talks of a festival there, hope we can make it for that. Yeehaw

Blurry Pic of Great Musicians with Us

Every Friday at the Butler County Coon Hunters Club. Blue Grass music makes me happy all over. It always calms me, then excites me, then completely takes me away when I hear good bluegrass music. Its like a thumping, fluttering river of sound. I love it and wish I had it in my life more.

Detroit Hustle

Every Monday night at 10PM nobody gets together at this abandoned building in Detroit to not ride their bicycles nowhere really fast.

Ice Cream Press Conference

Come for the parfait, stay for the small-town media coverage!

Alex Thompson's Bathroom Mirror

Our sources indicate that Alex Thompson spent hours admiring his own shapely adolescent runner legs in this bathroom mirror in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

Pic Dump !!!!

Pic Dump !!!

Pic Dump !!

Pic Dump !

Shicoggo, Ilinoy

From Springfield we caught the Amtrak to Chicago, just to catch up time. That city was as magical as it always is. The biggest part of the magic was that The North American Cycle Courier Championships AND The North American Bike Polo Championships were both taking place the weekend we were there.

We saw 1000's of racing messengers from all over the US and Canada. I also happened to even catch 2 friends from Texas! They were racing, and I didn't even know they were messengers.

Also we caught the Chicago Critical Mass, which was a totally strange but familiar feeling, riding bikes with a few hundred others. The crowd was relatively timid compared to any LA scene. In Chicago they call out "Happy Friday" to pedestrians, and Brad and I were goofing around with this theme. We had a number of variations for the riders, none of which were appreciated.

Also we played at an open mic at The Gallery Cabaret which I think scared a few people. Really cool though was that we met Joe from the Rat Patrol and he told about Saturday's party they were having. It was a miniature version of Bike Kill, good times. I got drunk and talked at strangers.

LA scene has way more energy than Chicago's, but I am glad I caught these events. It was a big bike weekend in Chicago.

Vitamin P

For about 7 weeks now I have been looking for a restaurant that had a "challenge" dish; one of those places that says something like, "if you can eat the whole thing, its on the house." With our vicious voracious biker appetites, I am sure we could devour any food-like substance, anytime, anywhere. Yesterday I found our chance.

In Springfield, Illinois there is this place called Charlie Parker's. It looks like a private airplane hangar from the exterior. Inside you'll find an oversized laminated menu with a tiny yellow box. "4 Giant Pancakes - if you can eat them all, we'll pay for them...$5.95". We have now entered a war zone, no cake is safe.

45 minutes later, there are three 16" pancakes in front of me and I am fighting back the vomit. I am soaking a rolled up lump of cake in a giant glass of milk, hoping that the milk will soak in so displacement will occur and this cake becomes more liquid-like (like the Japanese competitive eater Kobayashi) and easy to inhale.

36 hours later I am finishing pancake #2 which, along with #3 and 4 has been strapped down to the trailer since yesterday morning. The pancakes we took home are in a 16" pizza box! See above.

Also in Springfield the local newspaper took our photo and is running a story about the construction on the bike path we took. See below.

Stayin Loose in St. Louis

So we jammed 75 miles down the throat of beautiful Freeway 71 in middle Missouri to St. Louis. We arrived at the house of the aforementioned Seymour, Joe, and John from the bands we met in other parts of MO, Fig Crosby and Rusted Skin. They have an awesome house and they helped us towards our goal of pizza bliss. We went all the way, we ate a sausage Elicia's pizza, ate Mountain Dew, and watch Grindhouse. Spending such a normal night in a normal house was so fun, I loved it.

The next day we saw the city, used the local bike coop, saw the new DIY press/print shop, and saw our new friend Seymour's studio. That's where a great day turned into a momentous night.

An old drunk next to Seymour's studio informed us about an open mic up the street on Lemp Street, called Venice Cafe. We show up, sign up and chat with the manager outside and he buys us falafels. We sit and drink coffee and watch acoustic guitar singers. We take the stage to an audience of 21-62 year old eclectics, not unlike a Venice, CA crowd. We immediately isolate or endear all. You love us or leave us. There is a 4 song limit, and we finish to 1 person chanting "F. U. N."

So, as it happens the one person chanting is Count Jackula, the frontman for the weirdo last band, a "porn rock" group called The Vagrant Sophisticates. CJ is a hulky dude that represents NYC to the core. He tells us we blew him away and we are awesome and so on! Haha! He actually said he was really nervous about following our act! Funderstorm ego boost!

He wants us to stick around for his set. Done. The Vagrant Sophisticate's lineup is Count Jackula up front, The Sexual Gorilla on guitar, and The Dead Janitor on bass. Hot. They open with "Beat Off In Front Of Your Dad"...they close with Count's tutu around his ankles. Totally ridiculous. We had a blast.
We half-met Tobin, who invited us to crash at his place around the corner, but he was leaving before our show! So, since I had his address, I decided we should go for it. We head there around 3am. No one is awake at Tobin's. I find an open window and climb in, unlock the door, and take the couch in Tobin's. Keep in mind that I exchanged about 3 sentances with him. We are sleeping in a stranger's house. How many live here? Are there dogs? Is this even the right house? Hahaha!

We wake up to Tobin asking how we got in. Luckily I didn't really get too much sleep, so I had plenty of time to scheme up an answer to this question. "we didn't want to wake you, so I just came in through that window."

Whatever, we go to our new friends family cafe in North City. We meet the whole family. Grace, Sofia, Denise, and sister (I forgot!) - HOWDY!

If you get the chance, do not miss The Crossroads Cafe in St. Louis! (Picture is below.) Its the kind of place that sells out slices of cheesecake in advance!
Also you might catch Mr. Sim The Cookie Man across the street, you want the apple cinnamon! (his picture is at the top)

-in case its not known, me -Marcus- is writing these blogs! I get all the blame and love! Thanks!

Pilot Knob, MO and The Punx That Rule It

Last Friday we played to our most receptive audience in The Dead Pawn's Jason's garage (Jason is pictured above, center). The crowd was mostly 15-20 year old punks and metal heads, whom I asked our marketing dept about and that is apparently our second target audience, the first being Los Angeles late night bicycle party hounds.

We followed a really interesting noise set "I Want To Kill Every Human" and then (I am serious) one match of backyard mud wrestling (Angel won). Anyhoo, the show was loud, fast, sharp, happy, silly and inspiring, and I know I will never forget it. It was so good, that the sound man, Zack Weiss invited us to play the next night, more in a minute.

We stayed the night at Jason's and listened to 45's and ate Cheeto's and Mac and Cheese and drank coffee. The next morning I woke up early and eager, and so did Jason. We started talking about art and careers and kids and ideas and people's outlook and within one hour we were making stencils for new Funderstorm shirts and recording tracks in his mudroom studio. It was an amazingly productive day. I can say its been the most productive day on the trip. Jason has the energy of 15 people and the skills to get things done. By 6PM we had 3 tracks and he threw in 3 Dead Pawns tracks for our first EP split! Its fun. We recorded 4 kids chanting "F. U. N!" on one track! Good times.

That night, Saturday, was our show for Zack Weiss in Farmington, 20 miles away. The gig for us was this:

The night was billed as an all-metal band nightlong festival in the giant patio of Bob-a-rino's Pizza!! The slots were full but Zack had the vision to fit is in as the entertainment between the bands, since they take 15 minutes to set up and we take 15 seconds. So, we rocked it!

The metalhead kids there were stunned. They were hit hard by the eff you enn.

A few awesome things happened. Some kids from Pilot Knob came, and for our "first song" grand start, they went out on their own accord and bought confetti, poppers, and silly string! Those kids really made it happen, big time.

Also, there was an amazingly hard, sharp band here called Rusted Skin. They were killing it, for real. In between songs, the frontman says, "give it up for Funderstorm, my roommate told me about them riding bikes, and I didn't believe him. Well, here they are!" as it turns out, we played at Cesspool Castle with Fig Crosby, and Seymour is roommates with Rusted Skin's Joe and John, who we now met at this metal show, 4 days later, 300 miles away! Haha! Turns out they live in St Louis, and Joe says at the next break between songs, "Seymour says what's up and that you guys should stay with us in St Louis!"

Also that night we were paid $25 and a giant pizza. We were happy that we got to play, and it was totally unforgettable.

Also the closing band "As Vultures Paint The Sky" is amazing too, check them out! Good people, all of them are really fun and talented, do not miss!

Gene's Pool

There is a fine land known as Missouri, in which lies a village known as Joplin, in which lies a castle known as The Cesspool Castle. This castle is ruled by a fair dictator known as Gene, and Gene rules his kingdom with kindness, compassion, and really good quinoa dishes.

Funderstorm entertained the King as loyal court jesters to which His Highness responded quite well and procured such fine quinoa and substantial dues as reward.

His Highness also hath documented this occasion on the visual recordation device from which He hath foreheaved to a visual illusionary theater known as YouTube. One may seek the one known as "CesspoolCastle Funderstorm" to find this recordation.

K-C-MO, wooOOOooah!

Thank you to The Charles Mansion, Audrey, Kyle, Kyle's dad, the amazing infoshop on Troost, the 816 Bike Collective, Kansas City Parks and Recreation Dept., Lovely and Union Press and all the KC Lowrider Crews, and last and not even close to least, Lauren and Tristen of There's Barbecue Sauce On The Table (for now). KC has amazing parks, pretty and wide streets, hot hot music, sharp handsome helpful people, hopping lowriders, rocking attitude, styles forever, cheap rent, abundant jobs, and the dog pictured below, Salvador. I will never forget this weekend and it will keep us amped forever. I actually look forward to a return to KC, no question that I will be back!

I miss you and I haven't even left yet.

-Marcus

I Figured It Out

Today Brad asked me what exactly is a "MONSTER TRUCK!"?

I believe in the "MONSTER TRUCK!" as an attitude, not an oversized vehicle for wrecking, aka a "monster truck". A "monster truck" might wreck, but many things can mess one up or otherwise destroy it. On the other hand, nothing messes a "MONSTER TRUCK!" attitude up. No, nothing can mess up a "MONSTER TRUCK!" attitude.

The below image is an example of the work of a "MONSTER TRUCK!" attitude. Yes, its a monster car in a front yard in Eastern Colorado; but I urge you to take a closer look to the nature of this work.

Again, I stress that "MONSTER TRUCK!" is an attitude, an ideal, a lifestyle. The car pictured will of course throughout time be wrecked, but through the "MONSTER TRUCK!" attitude, the work lives on.

Funderstorm's First Full-Length Album Coming Soon.

Today's Miracle, Bullet Version

We ride 15 miles out of town. Brad blows 4 tubes and 1 tire in one stop.

We hitchhike (see me, below) to a very nice man's (Curt's) home, where we blow out his tire he donates, taken out of his own bike.

Curt drops us elsewhere to hitchhike to another city, hopefully one with a bike shop. We realize our precious tarp has been left at Curt's house, and he is now unreachable.

We are picked up by a very very nice man by the name of Larry (see above), who quickly performs the miracle of the day. He picks us up, buys us a hotel room, and offers to deliver us tubes from Pueblo!

What did I say?

I said, "He picks us up, buys us a hotel room, and offers to deliver us tubes from Pueblo!" and then I started chanting U S A ! U S A ! U S A ! U S A !

!!!THIS JUST IN!!!
The miracle streak of the day has just been extended!

The only bike shop here in La Junta, CO closed recently. The owner has moved on, but still lives in town. Curt gives us his number from the phone book!

We call him to ask for tubes, a shot in the dark. We finally get a hold of him, and he has tubes! Not only that, he invites us over for a spaghetti dinner! Yes, I can't believe it either!

We just returned from dinner with him and his lovely family. Chris and his clan are full of wonderful stories and spirit. I could go on and on but its a bit late. Anyhoo, we really enjoyed tonight and will never forget it!

So here we are in our hotel, eating cookies and chilling on AC and watching Olympic table tennis and living in the best country in the world and dreaming about the upcoming funderstorms approaching the Midwest. Life is cherished.

One More Thing

Jesus, kiddie porn and the plastic wigs!

When I Say

I have to take a moment to say a huge THANKS to everyone who has donated to us! Its physically helping us but its also emotionally uplifting! Its a huge boost at a pivotal point in the tour. We are dreaming up some big plans for everyone that's supported us. I can't say enough about how good I feel for everyone that's shown us support! Really, thank you. Also, please please please send us your mailing address and we can start getting mail to yall!

One hugely hilarious coincidence we have come across is meeting Pat and Danny and crew! In Telluride we met these five guys, two riders and three crew members, touring from GA to LA! Two of them are Bicykillers, a group of fast riders in The Valley! Fernando, the director, interviewed Brad and myself and I am pretty sure we have him some goodies for the documentary they are making. Pat had actually seen our show on The Mother Of All Rides at Pan Pacific in LA! We loved his reaction to us telling him we were Funderstorm. HAHA! Man, at the end of the day its a very small bicycle world!

I have to say we also met the nicest couple ever! The Shines of Montrose, CO hosted us at our smelliest with the utmost respect, hospitality, and genuine warmth that really lifted our spirits. It was really a wonderful evening! Thanks!

Oh yeah, we crossed The Continental Divide! I slept in The Pacific and Brad slept in The Atlantic Continent! We woke up to 100's of roadies finishing a 7 day tour! We told the same stupid stories over and over and had a really cool time. Drank coffee which was really cool too, then I sang "Soul Sucking Jerk" by Beck over and over on the 4,000Ft descent. Enjoy the pic below!

You Can't Spell COLORADO...

...without COLOR!

We are safe and not really that hungry in Dolores, CO. We had this meal in Utah and it demonstrates some of our tenet food groups: The Cheese Group, The Broke Group, The Dumpster Group, and The Fizzy Group. Not pictured are any of our 6 Ice Cream Groups.

We are in Dolores for the evening, awaiting a very important package via PO General Delivery. In the meantime we are going down to the Dolores River/public park to work on 2 albums on our unbelievable digital 4track recorder.

Maybe I'll even drink a beer or 12. We haven't had any in 2 weeks, due to budgetary constraints. Maybe we can find some patrons of The Arts for the evening. Hmm.

What Goes Up...

...is US, as we GET DOWN! Climbing over mountains and into dumpsters! We have crash landed quite safely in Torrey, Utah. If I were to record all of our (mis)adventures here I'd put T-Mobile out of business. Alas, here are some highlights...
1 Met Johnathan (below), a bicycle tourist from Taiwan. HE IS FINISHING HIS YEAR LONG U.S. TOUR IN L.A. so if there are any Ridazz reading this, get ready to kiss a new friend! He is a good guy with a totally inspiring story!
2 Met Cody at Ruby's Inn at Bryce Canyon. Amazing encounter. Best banana creme pie at the Bryce Canyon Hotel just before the junction. Don't play games, just go there. Best pie, best Cody. Thanks again man.
3 Alas, Funderstorm knows the NON-fee fun way into Bryce Canyon Park. Ask me for details (Marcus). They charge $12 per bike or $25 per car, unlimited passengers! Thus, its cheaper for 3 in a car than 2 on bikes! As your fun advisor, I recommend finding your own entrance into any fee-related national parks. Umm, next. 4 Brief encounter with two girls touring LA. They end in SF, and I sent them to MikeBikeMike! Cross country bike love!
5 Found $40 of chips, snacks, and peanuts in a Kanab, Utah dumpster. B-RAD carried the 18+ lbs of peanuts up 3500 ft mountains, and we are still munching them. DUMP LIFE!

The Great Marble Canyon Tradeoff

A few things about last night. 1 we are no longer vegetarians on this trip. 2 new friendships may come with an unexpected tax. 3 Navajo people are amazing and inspiring. 4 our megaphone is broken after one show. Alex, the Funderpower broke before we used it on the road. 5 DTA stands for Don't Trust Anyone and is the new mantra of the trip.

In conclusion, DTA.

In the first pic below is my throwup (Marcus') from 1.5 turkey sandwiches, a corndog, and a hot dog, all received as pre-dumpster foodgifts. Throwup is aged approximately 15 hours.

Second pic, Sean and Jimbo's house from the 89A.