not racing.

there's something to it.
get rippin' drunk the
Friday night before?

yeah, who cares.


pack in a hurry, pack half assed
and severely hungover, take the
fishin' kit just in case.

low stress, low low low when
there are no expectations on
yourself, for yourself, by yourself.
been diggin' it.

flattered. flattered by Mumbles,
his assigning me the duty to follow
the top dog uber fast ponies
down those big VA mtn descents.


yeah, like I can hang....

got some decent footage, I think,
hopefully it turns up. got some
decent footage of what it's like to
be dropped over and over and
over again. sweet footage of the
fast guys getting smaller & smaller
into the distance.

rinse and repeat on Braley's,
got a few stills before those
batteries died, ughhh. finally
didn't get dropped, ripping
a fine one down on Pat's wheel.

Then huff & puff trying not to
get dropped by le Churtle's pace
on the flats into CP4...

call it a day.
then enjoy the apres' scene.

but feel a tang. a tinge of
something missing from
the day. that shared battle
experience.

man, I gotta get this fucking
knee thing figured out, it's
been long enough.

wonder if I've screwed over
my ski season, waiting a bit
too long....time to get in line
for that tubular magnetic picture
taker I guess. And hope three
months is enough.

but first...a sesh of beginner
Yoga, because I really don't
like knives.