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The burg’s got it.

 

Traveling bike bums beware of this spiderweb of cyclery.

 

When riding is so engrained in local culture, the good times roll.

 

Literally.

 

Costumes are in.

 

And when halloween calls, you know it’s on.

 

Little wheels lift from the dirt with ease, newcomers can try out intimidating skills with support.

 

Dust flying into the air, particles of pumpkin on the rise like perfume diffusing through the air.

 

 

A winner’s quiet pride exudes its stifled inner-turbulence with one powerful strike of his mighty sledge.

 

The hollow thump of hardened steel burrowing through dirt through crisp autumnal flesh signals the pinnacle of an evening in the burg.

 

People don’t just ride together, they play together too in the friendly city.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 


 




 



 


 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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