Three days a week, he (or one of his minions) will now be on the plaza at 17th and California streets, grilling his demon-wizard's collection of elk and veal and reindeer sausages -- basically any of god's critters that can be caught, ground up and served in tubesteak-form -- for the eager crowds of office drones who always seem to flock to Biker Jim's carts.
Why do they flock so? Because Biker Jim is a genius. Because he operates with a direct line to the food gods and has regular, deep and meaningful conversations with them.
When I'm in the mood for something a little more substantial
than a traditional dirty-water dog-with-mustard, his hot dogs are not
just the best I've ever had in Denver, but the best I've ever had in my life.
No lie. A jalapeno-cheddar elk brat with a little Sriracha on top and
maybe a few caramelized onions? That's what I wanna be eating when I
finally get hit by that Guinness truck or shanked from behind by that
pissed-off chef. I wanna die with one of Biker Jim's wieners in my
Uh... You know what I mean.
Anyway, Biker Jim will have his cart on-site on 17th three days a week; the Waffle Brothers (who have partnered with Jim on some super-secret project for which I do not yet have the security clearance) will cover Mondays and Tuesdays. As always, you can also get Biker Jim's wieners at the original cart at Skyline Park (16th and Arapahoe) and, near as I can tell, at about 3,000 events a week to which the man dispatches his wiener-selling minions, all for the greater glory of the humble hot dog.
So who knows when you might find him parked in your backyard, trying to tempt the neighborhood children over to the dark side with delicious sausages made out of Rudolph and all the other reindeers.
Look, it's lunchtime (more or less). What are you waiting for? Get down to Skyline Park and get yourself some tubesteak. And then on Wednesday, head to the new spot for red hots with cream cheese out of Jim's industrial caulking gun. You can thank me later.