three deep today with the artist formerly known as the millennium falcon, now known as calvin cankles. you see, calvin has been perfecting the art of getting faded on that red knot since his return from the "wintering" down under. granted, his "wintering" was two fucking weeks, but who's counting.
so me on foot, cankles and pimpbot on wheels. we didn't exactly set out to do this, but there was some confusion in the communication. me in the finest prototype gucci sponsorship can buy, and the other two with curious looks and no plan. calvin cankles yelled at pimpbot about me not bringing my whip because that's the way the pecking order goes in these parts, and with that, we set off. me leading the climbs in a big way, and then running like a scalded dog to try in vain to avoid being caught on the descents. snow capped pop out's with a virgin layer of inch to two inch powder that did little more that irritate the lugs on the wmd's . it was a beautiful day that was only afforded to those who dared to ascend above the foggy cloud line. somewhere around the two hour mark while taking a gel and awaiting calvin cankles, pimpbot decided that he wanted to try and run back to the car. this is where wearing similar shoe sizes and lid circumferences come into play. off come the inov-8's, on go the shimano's. pimpbot takes off down the hill careening like a dart without feathers and shortly cankles arrives...irritated and confused at the swapped circumstance. "did you kill the little fucker and steal his bike?" no, says i. he's trying to expand his horizons. with that, the full squishy yeti belonging to pimpbot and i managed to chain slap our way down the mountain narrowly missing several trees, and one confused virgin trail runner to bring to a conclusion our adventure on this fine sunday. recollection doesn't seem to come out in typed prose, but i'll keep at this. if for no other reason that to update you on the various name's we come up with for todd, the artist formerly known as the millennium falcon.