The history and definition of a Burrito. Just thought this should be reposted for anyone thinking about entering but not sure what's going on. From the original CBN post ......
Well after a few people kicked around the idea of a handbook for Burrito's, I decided to get it started. This is just an intro. Over time with everyones input we should have a complete book!
The Burrito
Chapter 1- Introduction
Born from the imagination of the creator, the Burrito is not an object of tasty beef, melted cheese, and beans wrapped inside of a flour tortilla. It is a bicycle, but not an ordinary bicycle. One that is ultimately built to shock and amaze. Mothers must cover their young children’s eyes, teenage girls scream with excitement, and Dads across the world must have one in their garage during a mid life crisis. There are no real strict “Rules” for what a Burrito is. But here are a few general guidelines to point out.
1. The Burrito must be made from junky or discarded bikes
2. It must be as long and as low as possible. Road hazards and ground clearance are never in the formula for ride ability. The more it bottoms out or scrapes, the more successful the build was.
3. The Burrito cannot have a real nice paint job. Anything more than a deluxe puff can jobber is too much. If it is too shinny, old ladies may pass out from the shock factor of the bike itself, along with glaring paint with sparkles. Remember, there are still many unexplored areas for the Burrito as it is a relatively new species. Average society needs time to adjust.
4. The driveline must be unique. An average Joe must be able to recognize that the builder was concerned enough about his balls to avoid them from entanglement of the chain. The more interesting chain routes the better. Jackshafts, gears, idlers etc.
5. Turning radius must be a minimum of 25 feet, or just within the average two lane roadway. If not then it either doesn’t have enough rake, or the wheelbase is to short.
6. The Burrito cannot have a kickstand. If it does then it is too high, or too pretty.
7. Builders of the Burrito must remember its legacy. Not anyone can chop up a bike and call it a Burrito. It must be accepted by common consensus. This is a eat me, or I like to eat others kind of world…Wait, Is it we all eat too many calories kind of world. No, humans aren’t cannibals! Anyway, you get the idea.
8. The rider of a Burrito is often called “The Loader.” This term is short for “Mother Load” which is short for “Give me all the toppings” when ordering in Spanish. (Translation may very)
9. A Burrito is an ever changing state of being. It lives and goes against common trends. Anything considered cool on a chopper may not always be considered cool on a Burrito. Originality is the only respectable trait.
10. Lastly, If you are a girly man, you cannot have one.
Here is the next installment for the Burrito book. This next chapter is to help explain the thought process of the loader, or Burrito Builder as some call themselves. Here are the stories of two builders. Two bikes built simultaneously without each other knowing of each others existence. Built in the same state only miles apart. Florida humidity, earths alignment to the planet Uranus, and Mexican food all converged in the "Big Bang." Birth of the Burrito.
Chapter 2- Birth of the Burrito
In the words of Kenny P himself
"The Kung Fuji.....Born as a useless skinny tired road bike, transformed by a Freakbike Master into a pavement scorching skinny tired Road Warrior."
He explains,
While looking for a suitable donor for a Rat Bike Build Off, this "english racer" style collegiate cruiser winked at me from the pile as if to say "chop me, drop me and make me worthy".
Master Moss had made skinny bike look cool in BRK a few years back, why not?!
As it was stretched and lowered to 2x4 height, she looked so ridiculous, that it all made sense.
A headlight that shines into the front wheel, a quad colored pantina paint scheme, a suicide brake right in the crotch, no kickstand and a horizontal tube that scrapes and screams at every imperfection in the road....all so stupid that it caught the eye of the judges and won the very first Rat Bike Build Off.
Since that day, the Fuji has helped inspire what is now known as the Burrito movement.
Cheap, long and low............BURRI TO!
Here is Honest Abe’s account. Written from our conversation in front of a camp fire on a brisk February evening. Possibly in the presence of a moonshine distillery.
In his own words:
First off, y’all need to read this in my Southern accent. The way I talk. If you don’t, you won’t understands the way I think, and why I thinks it. If you ain’t merican then yous need to pronounce the words slow and how theys written.
Well, it was the summer of 2005, and I went over to a friend’s house to see what was going on. He’s a cool dude with all sorts of neat junk. The outside of his garage/barn is covered in an array of old hubcaps and tin signs with the occasional 1950’s front end of a car here and there. I was ridin “Old Yeller” (That’s the name of my old yellow tricycler.) Anyways we gets to talking about his old 1931 Ford pickem-up truck sittin there. Poor thing, no moe paint, no moe floor, and no moe bed. We gots to thinking that we should make it one of them there “Rat Rod trucks.” Well, that was the decision then, and still is. After two and a half years, were still in the thinkin stage.
While we were on the topic, he remembered a bike that he was fixin to throw away. A rusty old American tanker bike. After all of my two goats and younger sister were exchanged, an arrangement was made. It was all mine now. A springer front fork, a rusted out frame, and the remnants of a tank were all hauled back.
Once home, I moved the sisters old cage out of the garage and proceeded to bring in my parts. I decided to cut it right in half. Seemed like a good idea-r at the time. I then set it on the ground to see how it would look. It looked good, but I was stumped. My seat was to low for the chain. So, I threw it in the bushes out back, and after a while I no longer saw it while cutting the grass.
Now fast forward a year, along with a few Hurricanes in between.
I was watching TV one evening and eating some Taco Bell I had picked up on the way home. This weird movie called “Pee Wee’s Big Adventure” comes on. He’s kinda a goofy feller. Talks all funny and wears a gray suit. You’d have to see the movie to know what I’m talking about. Well that evening I fell asleep on the couch. I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, and without gettin into too much detail all I can say is that I had some bizarre dreams.
The next morning, I dug the beast out of the bushes and started workin on it. My new goal was to make the exact opposite of Pee Wee’s bike. No shinny chrome, No pretty red and white paint, and no threat of anyone named Francis wantin to steal it.
So I get her all mocked up for this meet in Halloween 2006. Guys call themselves the Freakbikers. So, I go to the ride hoping to take her on her maiden voyage. I soon fall back in the pack. I could only do, but 7-9 mphs. Not long after my chain pops off. Complete disaster. My jerry-rigged jackshaft setup had bent sideways. If I had examined my calculations better, I would have realized that the brute force/torque of my redneck leg power was simply too much for the non hardened steel component to handle. However, I managed to make it to the meeting area where I then hitched a ride to pick it up in my truck.
The week following, I was determined to make her work. I ripped off that there faulty part and sent it back to NASA. It was then re-engineered. They apologized for their mistake and promptly sent a corrected design. Number 40 chain and a sealed grease able bearing were fitted and are still in use today. It is now able to harness my strength. I have never had to warsh or wax her either. Just oil the chain once in a while. The bottom tube is a nicely seasoned piece of raw pipe. now. What was once considered impossible had been accomplished. My I was considered for the Nobel peace prize for “Engineering, and Quality Craftsmanship.” I turned them folks down because I felt Al Gore deserved the cover page.
Well, that’s the story to the best of my recollection. I bet me forgots something, Oh well.
