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By: Leticia Cline 

Slippery Sunday was suppose to be the frosty night cap to the weekend’s festivities of the Flat Out Friday Races and the Mama Tried Show but warm temperatures caused officials to cancel the ice racing. However, it takes a lot more than the threat of your bike going for a swim to slow a bunch of Super Hooligans down. Cameron Brewer, Jordan Graham and Troy Hoff heard of a lake an hour north that had just enough ice to hold up at least one of their bikes if not all three. So they took their chances and headed to the appropriately named Lake Sinissippi (like Mississippi but for Sinners) on their Indian Scouts with Fredette Racing, studded ice tires mounted up.

It was 55 degrees and sunny. Even the birds thought it was spring and in parts of the ice you could see a fish swim past. This is the part where the normal person would use their better judgment and talk themselves out of a such a crazy adventure but these are you're ‘run of the mill’ type of fellas and a little slush never hurt anyone.

In fact everyone who came out there that day was a hooligan looking for a crash and a good time. The camera man, Preston Burroughs, the guy that took all these awesome photos, was standing there letting the guys throw 500 lb motorcycles at his camera like it was nothing.

“Bad decisions always breed rad shots” he says casually as he tries to get enough traction to walk across the ice.

As the day went on, parts of the ice gave way thanks in part to the many burnouts (or would ice outs be more appropriate) and to the constant number of crashes and shred sessions. Cameron’s bike went for a swim, twice. All was good though and it didn’t slow him down any just like not having any gear didn’t stop him from going out. Luckily Aaron Guardado from Suicide Machine Co. was out there and had some (really small) leathers for him to borrow.

While Hoffy did standup wheelies, Graham raced by doing slides and donuts only to have Brewer come out with every determination to crash his bike, which he did. A lot. All the guys did. It was like synchronized swimming but on bikes and ice and less organized so more like what a hooligan would look like if there was a hooligan synchronized swimming event. But that’s what a day like this one was all about, roosting your friends, crashing your bikes and sitting back to laugh at it all with a couple of cold ones before going out to do it all again.

At the end of the day everyone was tired and wet, there was very little ice left by the shore to get the bikes off of the lake and the silence of exhaustion said everything. Even though it felt warm out the mountains on the beer cans were still blue. There were no podiums or trophies, no press or interviews but there was still the race banter between fellow rider and of course the ever ominous shaken can of beer to the face. And that makes for one hell of a nightcap if you ask me.




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