Steve Crandall

Coffee sipping pilot of a red FBM frame and a Nikon camera.

Posts from Steve:

Pipa Grande

Exciting adventures with great friends.

Last Sunday morning, long time friend Chris Arriaga pulled up in front of my house, and I hopped in. We drove north. All I knew was he had been talking with his friend Jordan Lacey, whom I had met briefly. Jordan knew of a mammoth structure which were were hoping we’d get to ride.

We parked on the side of a highway, grabbed bikes and gear, and hopped a gate. “No Trespassing” was in large print adorning our entrance. The usual.

Jordan had been there years ago when it was very dry. So we were expecting an easy hike/ride through small scrub and a dry lake bed. Not the case this time. Recent rain had everything in bloom, especially the six to eight foot tall weeds and brush. We had to circumvent the desperately low lake bed as to not sink into the gooey mud. Didn’t really help. We spent close to 3 hours bushwhacking and desperately trying to remove the clay that was building up on our tires. At multiple points in our hike we had to stop and remove the gunk from tires so they would actually roll again. We laughed at how much effort we were putting into this.

After a long slow slog through the muck and brush we arrived below the mouth. I thought it would be faster to climb up and diagonally to beeline it straight to our destination. Chris thought staying low and traversing would be easier. Jordan followed me up the rocks with our bikes. BMX rock climbing is not easy. Chris was right. He beat us and found amusement in our suffering.

The first time my eyes focused on our destination I was in shock. I had heard of this thing for years. It’s legendary.

It’s massive! Let me say that again…it’s massive!

Jordan explained how to get in and he went for it. Slid his bike off the edge and watched it slide a long way down into darkness. He then slid down himself, picking up speed as his shoes were moisturized by the water left over from recent rainfall. I went next. Scary at first, but mellow once you get part way down. I used the “spider monkey” technique to get down without slipping.

My heart was pumping once I descended into the abyss. I think it skipped a beat when Chris called down that he wanted to drop in. I was nervous for him. I climbed back up to get his 50 pound camera backpack. He said he was on it. So I descended again with the pack and we all got ready.

Chris is a badass! He never even saw the entire run-out until he was flying down into the darkness.

Once inside we cranked in the darkness towards the daylight at the other end of the tunnel. Jordan quickly explained some intricacies and began shredding. Chris and I soon became comfortable on the massive transition and we were all having the time of our lives! At least, I know I was. We rode till our arms and legs were sore. Chris pulled out his media gear and shot some riding mementos.

Once done pedaling, we wanted to get to the cars before dark. No one wanted to deal with the hike in, so we found the main road to take back. The road was a blessing and a curse. It did make for easy travel and we did have fun blasting long downhills. However, a car pulled up behind us as we were walking up a hill.

The person in the car was shocked to see us, then, almost immediately, he was enraged. He was a worker who I think lived on the property to oversee/manage. We received the usual verbage about federal laws, trespassing, etc. We responded with mellow tones and apologies. He drove off mad.

As darkness approached, we descended the last few hills. We braked hard at the bottom of the road so as to avoid slamming into our exit gate. The maintenance guy who yelled at us was waiting on the other side of the gate. He was taking pictures of us. Just after hopping the gate, a sheriffs patrol SUV came in hot. I casually walked up to the officer. I did not deny anything and apologized. Then another officer showed up. The worker wanted trespassing tickets for all of us. Luckily the sheriffs were very cool. We were cool to them, they were cool to us. They did say though that there will not be a next time. We were told to never come back and to spread the word. So, I’ve spread the word, but I might be back.

I will be forever grateful that Jordan was cool enough to be our guide. Also thanks to Chris for carrying ridiculous amounts of camera gear so that we would have souvenirs.

Great times with great friends…perfect!

Riding photos by @chrisarriaga. Other photos by Chris, @_jordan_lacey, and myself. (Sean Emery)

Wilmington North Carolina

Photos (primarily) from Kaleb Bolton from a weekend Trip to Wilmington North Carolina in a School Bus..

Richmond Virginia Street Jam!

FBM x ANIMAL STREET JAM : RICHMOND VA from dennis williford on Vimeo.

New video by DJ Williford, get stoked!

Here is another, As seen on FBM–

FBM X Animal Street Ride- Richmond Va. from FBM BMX on Vimeo.

What the HELL is Monkey Lust

“INTOXICATING, POOR QUALITY, AMATURISH, DISGUSTING, GROSS, CHEAP, VILE, RUDE… ONLY $12.99”

One of the first Zines I remembering getting in the early 90’s…

Thanks to Taj for the upload, who happens to be on the cover…

Snack Truck

Snack Truck – Hardywood – 10/16/2015 from Tristan Brown on Vimeo.

Combined age of 99

BMX Legends Ron Wilkerson, and Dennis Mccoy, riding bikes on a weekday afternoon in North Carolina.

…like this casually.

Evan Venditti at last year’s FBM BYO jam in Richmond, Va. He was taking wild lines into this box jump all day. Starting close to a football field’s length away he would mow power wheelies and carves until he hit the lip and crush a one footed table like this casually.

Shot during a smoke break while riding around the north side of Pittsburgh Pennsylvania with Dillon and Holladay.

The FBM Bus– A vehicle, a home, a bringer of stoke!

Van Homan– The scene for the BYO jam is always interesting. From seasoned professionals to bums eating half cooked hot dogs out of a chip bag, the eclectic group of people that show up to this jam always makes it a good time. Van Homan floating a whip over the Richmond skyline.

Party Berm at Gillies Creek– Party shaker can in one hand, beer in the other, with the hip hop air horn going off at any given moment.

Inside the FBM Bus– Crandall at the wheel and Holladay in the pit. Following the open road.

Eric Holladay is a wild man on a bike. While pedaling around downtown Pittsburgh we stumbled upon this setup in an alley. He laced this curb bump to double tire and pulled it back out over the curb with ease.

Mikey Askew seems to have no problem with spinning this jump at Gillies Creek even when tailing Eric Lee in the middle of a train.

photos on Film By https://www.instagram.com/garrettage/

Eric Holladay- FBM

Eric Holladay- FBM Bike Co. from FBM BMX on Vimeo.

Whipsnake!

FBM at Whipsnake from FBM BMX on Vimeo.

Spaghetti and Ice Cream

I was fresh out of surgery, for a pretty serious injury, in which I was heavily self medicating on cheap beer and bad behavior. Coasting half way across America in a car with expired tags, no inspection, and without insurance, I landed in my hometown temporarily disabled, and with no plan for my future.

I had moved away 5 years previous, and already it had seemed like a lifetime ago. My family had moved, but i was still connected to Ithaca New York, a town that had and would always be some kind of home for me. This time I was couch surfing, with Mike Tag, Bones and Brad as Hell. A semi rogue party house on Spencer Street.

Upon one of my first nights back, an after hours party had the house mixed with subversive types, hell raisers, pretty versions of homely girls I went to high school with and the typical late night drug rug burnouts recovering from adolescent acne trouble and wayward ambition.

I sat perched on the inside corner of the kitchen countertop, with a cast dangling from my knee toward the floor. My friends and I recounted misadventures, all the while, a 2 gallon cauldron of overcooked spaghetti in runny bargain flavored tomato sauce, sat half congealed, and half soaking in a puddle of an unfinished meal, just two feet away.

As the stash of last call reserves dwindle, and the laughs and stories eventually spread to curious half strangers, soon the antagonism and late night bravado rears its head. At some point the tales shift to exchanges and one guy ends up insulting me in typical ‘who is this dude’ fashion when a new face in the crowd garners attention. I wasn’t new in town, but to these guys I was a stranger. To me it was strange for someone to challenge me in my best friends house. One of my friends, known simply as Blackneck, assured the fellas, I was just a big teddy bear when I retorted with less playful words and more insults came my way. With his ego assured I was a benign threat, I caught a few more offenses before sliding off the counter top, onto one leg, and sent a right hand to another man’s snot locker.

The floor was instantly puddled in blood, spilled beer and covered muddy/bloody foot prints in another one of my record scratch moments as Mike and Ham Bone charge into the kitchen scolding me. I hadn’t been in town but a day and I had already managed to piss off my friends, in their own home, Great.

Looking at the floor which strangely resembled the pot of un-eaten spaghetti on the stove top, Mike in a stern tone, reprimands me for making a mess in the kitchen. I exhaled, I thought I had crossed a line by breaking one his friends nose, but in reality it was the mess on the floor that had me in hot water… he did’t know the guy.

The next day in a lazy warm hungover afternoon haze, Leg propped on the coffee table, Ham Bone caught somewhere between a water pipe, and video games, Tag somewhere in the peripheral, the previous evening was recounted through laughs as the sound of an ice cream truck’s jingle creeps closer.

Mike and I had developed some kind of contempt for these guys, disguising their invasive, borderline seedy trolling of the neighborhoods we lived in, with summertime treat offerings. We were pranksters and we hated when that song jingled unsolicited into our airwaves.

Ham Bone was totally unaware. I stepped out side and motioned for the Ice Cream man to stop, using my body language to indicate I was going to get some money, by holding my index finger in the air signaling to hold on for a moment. I muttered something to the effect go ‘watch this…’ and went to the kitchen and grabbed the pot of Spaghetti that had been festering for the past day and half. I hobbled out the door, awkwardly handling a a giant pot of over cooked pasta and hurled it into the cab of the ice cream truck, and all over the unsuspected vendor of bomb pops and fudgesicles.

I have no idea why I did it, and I quickly went back inside while Ham Bone stared incredulously, slack jawed, before admonishing my terrible behavior, and soon breaking down in tears laughing. The front door was quickly locked, in fear of retribution and the law. Here I was again, hanging with Ham Bone in Ithaca, and drinking with Mike on Spencer Street…

Lumiere Tin Type

Can you tell us your Name, age and what Lumiere is?

Adrian Whipp, 31 long years, Born in the midlands, UK. Lived in Leeds for a while, now residing in Austin, TX.Â

Lumiere Tintype is a little traveling studio and darkroom that I built. I keep it in Austin at a little French Restaurant and make tintype photographs of folks who visit the restaraunt. The studio is mobile so we travel around with it too, kind of like the itinerant photographers of 150 years ago. Tintype is an old civil war era process – I use a handmade chemistry to coat a piece of metal and make it light sensitive. It is exposed and developed much like a piece of film. Â

I started by just buying some basic chemistry and a cheap large format camera. I’m self taught so the first few attempts were pretty pathetic – but there’s something very cool about making an analog photograph entirely from scratch, so I was hooked. Seeing an image you made by hand appear in the fix really never gets old.Â

Since embarking on this photo journey with Lumiere, are there any noteworthy adventures you would like to share?

This summer was a big test for us, I wanted to see if I could survive on the road for a few months, shooting tintypes across the country. I traveled from Texas to Canada, and back down the west coast all the way to San Diego before heading inland. Me and the dog camped most of the time in National Forests, shot tintypes on the weekends to make a little cash, then kept moving along. I got to see some awesome parts of the country, and meet some great people. I also got to ride bikes and work on my Trail Digger Tintype project, something I want to add to over the next few years.Â

is there any explanation to the fact that your images seem to draw even more character out of your subjects than other mediums?

It’s super detailed, the resolution of an 8×10 tintype blows any DSLR out of the water. Old lenses help too, they don’t make ’em like they used to. Add to that the fact that the chemistry can’t ‘see’ color correctly, (for example, blue eyes will glow, while skin darkens) and you have a pretty captivating image. Also – the image actually exists in the physical realm, which is a treat these days… As good as they look on screen, they look even better in person. Even the act of making one is magic, I always rush the fix tray out of the darkroom to show people the image appear before their eyes.Â

What gets you stoked?

Building stuff. Finding other people that build stuff. Owning your own business means you get to build every little part of it. The studio, the camera, the chemistry, whatever. I think I probably enjoy that as much as the photography. It’s like building trails. Total creative control of your environment.Â

Check out more from Adrian Whipp on his website Here and learn more about Lumiere Tintype here!

The Halahan Boyz

The Halahan's – FBM 2015 from FBM BMX on Vimeo.

Ride everything, get stoked, stay stoked and have fun everyday. These young shredders Illustrate that concept and more. If you don't already know, these are the Halahan's…

The Halahan's are awesome, all of them, in this edit specifically we have Nathan Halahan, age 11, and his brother Lukas Halahan, age 12, both ripping on some custom built FBM frames.

Filmed and edited by Geo Jenkins of Deek Design.