There was a heated pro session in effect upon my arrival, with Jeremiah Smith heading up the Failure Bikes team with impressively radical moves (including a seemingly effortless doublewhip over that street spine) throughout the park. It was good to see so much Snafu support in one building with several dudes, including myself, on Snafu kits. My new wheelset is tight! I questioned the quiet cassette upon installation but a couple hours of operation have pumped up the volume (gotta hear that ratchet to monitor speed, ya know?). I've been riding my dirt jumps all summer so it took a bit to get acclimated to the park layout (and my little "park" bike), but it was so fun. Zackface Killa is the real deal.
Non-stop comedy and skills well beyond the hybrid flatland-street steez he might be lumped into. The crew left but we stayed on for a tw0-man sesh. Having the whole set-up to ourselves was greatness and stress-less. I was happy with my progress and Catmandu and I pushed each other in a positive direction. We both had first time experiences and I left feeling like a boy half my age (early 20s? Shit!). I stayed at Zack and his brother's crib and the hospitality was too much. Rocky Flair Jr. tried to get tough with Simone, Zack's legendary Pitbull, but managed to hold it down without getting ragdolled.
We ate pizza and watched Fuel TV, one of Catfishes many employers, and discussed the fact that BMX dudes are more real than most others simply because there is nothing to gain beyond the pure passion of two-wheeled enjoyment. There are no coat tails to ride and nothing to cash in on. You're in or you're out. We finished off our interlude with an insane breakfast at The Original Pancake House and said our goodbyes. 
Catsumi has moves all over this place. Local Wizard status. I couldn't capture the "Scary Monster" no-hander with the delayed shutter of my lo-fi Canon, but it is all Zack and all good, baby baby.
That transfer is one of the safer ones in the building but it took me a few tries to get done. The shark attack wall tap is another story. Zackary tried it on his whip, sans brakes, for the first time with marginal results, but later pulled it on my bike like it was nuthin'. A flatland freestyler and an old racer combine to make dudes that really like bike riding and not giving fucks about status. If you are on the streets of Dayton Ohio and think you hear the fog-horn of a tugboat but only see a sick blue VW with murdered out rims, you'll know you're in the right place. What?
Speaking of "in", Kelly Baker finally updated his blog on the FBM sight.
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