The weather in Texas was one of the most miserable things I have encountered in a long,long time. Upon arrival Friday, everything was just fine. I went and bought a power inverter for my car so I would be able to work from there, wandered into a thrift store for some shitty tshirts and then I was off to the races... Unknowingly late.
I wasn't to late atleast. Everything was fine actually. And it was beautiful out, just as it was when I left New York. I even put my bike together and rode a cement park that night before meeting a friend for drinks and writing up the part one of my story.
Saturday is where everything went down a hill, fast.
I sat in the second to last row of the plane. As shitty as it seems at first knowing that, it is kinda awesome. You're the first one on the plane and last one off. Granted, I don't want to be crunched on that thing any longer than I have to, but there is ample space to put your carry on which in my opinion is kinda worth it. Somehow, our flight got to the airport a full hour early. Something about a lack of head wind. Maybe it was carrying the storm down?
I always shoot the jump into the first turn first. It's always a good shot, and allows me more time to scope out where else I am going to shoot from afterwards. Round 1?
The clay within the venue is way hard. My knees were killing me. To much calcium? there is a distinct line where it goes from pack like cement to loose as sand.
I've started to be come a connoisseur in shitty malt liquor and bum drinks. I meant to take a picture of my 6 pack of mickey's alone with my bottle of MD 20/20 next to my pile of thrift store shirts, but as typical, failed.
Ex single A pro racer James Corroza allowed me to stay with him Saturday night. this is his dog. My brother owes him $20 from 7 years ago. He didn't break any legs this weekend, but drank 3 margaritas and was lit.
I made james and his girlfriend do shots of MD 20/20. Banana Red. Tastes just like Banana.
What the fuck is the deal with that? Really. What the fuck. Friday was in the 70's, Saturday was in the mid 40's and sunday just dropped completely off. It took me over an hour to make the 20 minute drive from James' house to the BMX track. I saw cars against walls everywhere and one on its side. Driving to the airport later in the day was like driving through a car battle field. Bits and pieces everywhere.
I was running later after the traffic sunday, so I parked in the grass... and immediately sank 3 inches. Had to borrow a tow strap and get someone to pull me out. Fuck yeah mud puddles.
This little taco shack was undoubtedly the best thing that happened to me on Sunday. On my way to the airport. Left myself plenty of time. and then got lost. Made it to the rental car dropoff by 1:15 for my 2:15 flight.... and still hadn't packed. Managed to put everything(i think...) in my bags, and pull my bike apart and pack that in 10 minutes freezing cold in a parking lot. It wasn't until I got ont he shuttle bus that I realized I still had the keys in my pocket. The driver hooked me up and took care of them.
My flight was delayed an hour. i looked like shit, didnt have time to change, was completely filthy. Went to the airport bar. Was granted a double shot and a jack and coke for $12.
Finally back in New York from a hellish trip, and this little asshole attacks me.
If you haven't watched Darryl Nau's day in the life on www.props.tv I highly suggest you do. It will inspire you to cook some sweet potatos.
All in all, I am just being a whiney bitch because I know New York had a fantastic weekend. I'm bitter about that. But fuck it, this too shall pass.