Slaughterama-o-rama

Though I maintain my unbridled contempt for Richmond, there are a few things I'm going to miss when this city loosens its grip. I'll miss swiping "free samples" from Elwood Thompson's health food store. I'll miss the odd wandering smell of raw sewage and stagnation the city emits. The state of absolute worthlessness that a trip to Panda Veg (Panda Garden) delivers will be sorely missed. Finally I will miss the annual event known as Cycle Slaughterama. On a weekend that had something for everyone. The mass public had the Monument 10k, The artsy crowd had the French Film Festival. VCU had Strut and to a lesser extent...much lesser extent MoonPie Madness. There had to be an event for those kids with one pant leg up. To put it briefly Slaughterama is a convention of sorts. Except this convention is filled with the several Richmond area bike gangs, cycle enthusiast, innocent bystanders, beer, dirt, filth and the occasional aroma of the Dre Day. This is more than a youthful hootinanny of drunken debachery...okay maybe not. But you can't deny Slaughterama's attention to creativity. From the Mad Max outfits, to the custom bikes to the events themselves. This is an orgy of fun, imagination and sheer apathy for one's well being that can only be rivaled by Atlanta's Freaknik (If you don't get that one, check Wikipedia).

In an attempt to introduce the three of you that read my blog to Slaughterrama, here is a quick pictorial of the hour or so I was able to attend.

Opening Ceremony: Music and Beer, a tried and true method to getting a party stared. PBR might as well be the unofficial sponsor of Slaughterama. I enjoy the Pabst, but that boombox bike makes me laugh every time I see it. RIP Radio Raheem.



The Horde: Slaughterama is held at the concrete pavilion on Belle Isle. The rocks, nails and glass and other opportunities for tetanus make it a perfect venue for an event where open wounds are encouraged.


I Had That When I Was Seven: Brad D. aka Coolhand Zoidberg gets somewhat wicked on a tri-scooter. Though impractical in all other situations, this contraption is essential if you want to tear an ACL.

Orange County can't hold a candle to Richmond: The level of creativity goes up year to year. Last year it seemed to be more about the Double-Highs, this year I saw a lot more fork extensions. Even saw a surfboard bike which made me understand just how this all isn't a fad in the city. You may say their talent is being wasted, but I'd say "Dude...we're all wasted...(hiccup)".

Flatland Tailwhip: Seeing more and more BMX in the city. If I could go as fast as I could on a track/road bike I would have one.


Going for 2: It took awhile but, someone finally go two complete flips on the BMX roller bike. Last year the first thing I saw was a girl get thrown from the bike during the Chariot Races and open up her head something serious. This year I saw a guy on this bike roll directly into a crowd of people. Though bewildered, I'll never be disappointed with this event.


Six-Pack Tandem Race: This was the first official event of the gala, and unfortunately the only one I saw this year (Damn you MoonPie Madness!). Though the game is designed to have participants on tandem bikes (one bike, two people) trying to down the most six-packs in 5 minutes, it quickly turned into a riot of bikes and beer. The referees weren't paid off, they simply didn't exist.




Friendly Faces: I ended up going by myself, which isn't a problem. All it took was one quick circle around the outer loop of spectators to find a familiar face. Even saw James River himself coming while I was going. I'm still not sure if Ben or I have the world's biggest head, but he has the biggest knee trophy for certain.