Garret changes the oil in the Ford Kill-O-Matic Friday morning.
Also glued a cog.
Really caked that J-B Weld on.
A good omen: this blossom opened on our cherry tree just before we hit the road. We took five people and seven bikes 107 miles up I-5 with no incident.
Arrived and unloaded at my friend Jordan's house in NE, off Alberta. We rode three blocks to play cul-de-sac polo outside the Polo Haus. They also had an awesome live DJ, a keg of Ninkasi Oatis Stout, and a micro pump-track. Unreal. That's our man Sean from EUG.
This guy's helmet caught my attention immediately. His name's Rory, and he's from Vancouver, B.C.
We made it home and slept for a few hours. Saturday morning, we prepared for the actual tourney. Boone found out his cog and lock-ring were loose.
Garret towed his polo bike and Brendan's disc'd 650. You can just make out Bob Ross above the brown bag by the stand.
A bunch of sissies drove there.
The organizers were very organized, with fancy brackets and stuff. That's Jeff's arm.
Division 3 was the dirtiest division. "BMFP" stands for Bike Mutha Fuckin' Polo.
The Reverend Phil, representing.
An alleycat came through. Polo was a checkpoint. These guys were a little lost.
Garrett warming up in a pickup game. Meanwhile, my bike lays in wait.
I didn't saddle up at all until we had to play an actual points game.
A Portlander films from the fence as this dude from Los Angeles guards his goal.
There are no time outs in polo, but play magically stopped when this tough gal took a really mean spill.
I shot this sloppy panorama with Geordan's rented Rebel on continuous shutter mode and let Photoshop paste it together for me. Click on it for the full-size experience.
Sunday's games were on a single-serving court at the more nearby Alberta park.
Spectators spread out.
Most of the EUG crew hung out by this goal.
A Shift2Bikes group ride stopped to watch for a few minutes.
Some really impressive plays in the final rounds. I often found myself interrupting one "woah" with another, then another, and finally just yelling.
"Dirty Sock," a team comprised of Sean and Udelai from Eugene and our expatriate Abe, made it pretty deep into the bracket.
There were always a few standing around and pointing at this piece of cardboard.
Dirty Sock shuffling off the courts after their final defeat. They did Eugene proud.
This photog was shooting some nice on-court stuff until he had to jump up the fence to stay out of play.
Yes, that's Eilif eating strawberry rhubarb pie with a lock-ring wrench.
Amazing snot rocket. Caught on film. This is bike related because he's on a bike.
Former messenger turned Union Pacific engine operator, "Disco" stuck around to watch all day. Has one of the classiest road conversion fixed-gears I've ever seen.
Jordan was a really enthusiastic spectator. I mean he was really, really pumped about the whole thing. He should have won an award.
Eilif wanted to make sure everybody knew his team beat DFB, 5-0.
Organizers called all players onto the court at the end for the awards ceremony. Along with the cup and some sweet pads from Black Star Bags, they gave away these metallic purple risers with under-clearcoat decals. Do want.
Vancouver's "Balls Deep" won the whole thing.
The final bracket.
I saw this on my way out of town. I think it sums up a weekend of serious foolishness rather well.