YELLOW BELGE | JELLE | A DIALLED BELGIAN
A SENTIMENTAL BURP ABOUT THE SUMMER
PA. Life in transit is life without a home, perpetually moving from scene to scene, place to place, between friends and family, lifeâ€™s route plots a jagged line. The change of the seasons bring with them the tug of the road, a life on two wheels generally leads towards warmer climates and the promise of riding long into the evenings, the exception to this migration is created by the draw of the woods, wether it be for digging or riding the joy of trails defies the seasons, collecting riders from far and wide depositing them collectively under woodland cover in obscure towns far from the tourist trail.
ROSSO | ROBINSON
This homelessness is a constant, arriving into town as an outsider, being housed by the riding community, becoming part of the family and eventually leaving, on the cusp of departing Pennsylvania I want to write a thank you letter. The cold has finally set in, deep into fall the last sessions in the woods are savored with such fever that lap rates are doubled in the knowledge that each run might be your last, we ride together as friends, this fall Pittsburgh has become home. The Potoczny’s, Mark and Mike, they created in part the community of outsiders that has roamed the woods here, their modest house in Pittsburgh’s northern suburbs has roomed more than six different nationalities and over fifty individuals, foam pads littered the floor, bodies in varying states of sobriety shielded their eyes to the day, whilst others rose early to groom jumps and truly appreciate the sunshine. The house kitchen confessions were hosted by Mike Cottle, he lives in the basement, works at a bike shop and runs the show. The crisp crack of an opening beer acted as signal for those under the roof to join Mike at the kitchen table, hours would pass in shit talk, no subject was out of bounds, as cases arrived and emptied, laughter bellowed until the last beers were gone, Mike would then descend into the basement and those remaining would stumble over resting bodies to makeshift beds and finally to sleep. Opening your home to strangers is a difficult thing, behind lock and key personal space is valuable, the door to this house was never closed for long. I have been at the point of exhaustion without a place to rest my head, I don’t much care for that feeling, the Potoczny’s made sure no one felt that way. I was handed a key early on in my stay, for the past three months this house has been home, sharing meals and trails sessions we have become a family, knowing that the days would start and end in the same place with the same people left the rest of time open for anything. Thank you number one is for Mark, Mike and Cottle.
M.PROTOCZNY| HOME TURF
Thank you two is for the scene, in a day and age where riding can be classified as culture, hobby or sport itâ€™s easy to feel out of touch, skateparks are filled with kids doing tricks once reserved for computer games, the internet gnaws at individuality randomly regurgitating rasta coloured bile, cynicism can spread through a generation like wildfire. PA at this time of year reminds me of why I love to ride, the butterflies at walking into a set of woods, the sheer excitement of connecting with long lost friends and the intense awe of seeing true legends flow through their own jumps, I hope the day never comes when I donâ€™t turn into a my teenage self at the sight of Jaybone flowing through Posh. The people you meet at this time of year each have a common purpose and mentality, nothing beats training your friends new and old through the woods. This thank you is to the scene for reminding me what bmx can be, DIY, underground, positive, welcoming, and above all else, a community.
COTTLE | ROBINSON.
YEAGLE | HAZELWOOD | BY CHAZ
Containing a thank you letter previously written for a trails article that never came to pass and a collection of snaps from 3 months in PA