Hands Down....

Something. Pics from the garage and beyond....

Add some lights: 2 of 4


Mount GPS:


Watch trees grow:

Made Me Cry....

Wavewheel to Meat....

I get a day off and guess what? I go kayaking. Looking for something to peel my eyelids back, I head into Souse Hole, Rio Grande!

Meanwhile Im having trips up on the Arkansas, overnighters, cracked heels, keg beer, a big black muscle monster of a dog, grad school schist, and Im a new member of the Gear Army for Outside Magazine! Where I get to recieve super sick and sometimes not awesome outdoor gear and use the crap out of it and then post my reflections. I like. Next in line is a Sweet Strutter helmet, maybe in pink, who knows?

one=three=five=four=cosmic....

The carnage is happening. The river is up. Koko's first college bikini rafters showed up. I havent stopped working for about 2 weeks. I dont even have a chance to down a beer before I fall asleep. I finally got my second shower in a week and a half. And then I twisted my ankle stepping out of the bus and faceplanted the neighboring bus, just previous to another guide tripping on said rock and almost ripping the bus door off.



Taos Box Style....fast, racing private boaters to the only two spots on the river to have lunch. Not getting run over by the bus traffic. Telling ridiculous stories and laughing. walking in the water to fart my drysuit only to have the zipper open and filling the legs with water. Heels calloused and deeply cracked....but I cant figure out why it doesnt hurt yet? Kayaking wavewheel to meat only to have your eyelids pulled back behind your ears from the force of the water.


Nap time.

....

Back by popular demand!!! New Posts!!!!

uh yeah, Im apparently busy now and stuff. How lame.

Heres a pic:

Gearboat PLUS paddlers PLUS 8-30 packs of Miller Lite. This thing was a pig. I may expand later, but not now. I did however talk the owner into buying me a stern frame, working well.
and here and here

good Kelly Carnage here

Four seasons on the Gauley from Jason Rackley on Vimeo.

River:30....

Its time. This time we did a nice little trip on the upper Chama river, aka, Big Mama Chama. Supposed to be a scenic class II with a burly class IV near the end, and a hike out. We failed to see the IV, but had a great time searching for it. We all agreed this would be one of the best easy overnighters with plenty of campsites and lee bank shelves, scenery and canyon action. The only class IV we found was right at the begining: river-wide barbed wire fence near the gravel pit.

Zomg!! x 2....

Craft Fail, Cake Wrecks....

All about flundered crafting. Hilarious. I should put up ALL of my attempts this year....

Craft Fail!

via: Neatorama

And then Cakewrecks....says it all...lol

Does this:

Look like this?:
I really like the 6 digits vs the 3....

Dakar, and Whoa!!!!!

This is a story from ADVrider...and it WILL blow your mind.
Read everything from "Bugfnnuts" and be prepared to watch the days trickle away, and the productivity diminish.

http://www.advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=209947

Top 9....

So far 2009 has sucked. I decided to alter my jaded opinion of the matter and see how funny these dumb happenings can be. You decide, or make your own additions:

9. Selling the 4Runner, some asshat offers me $750 (posted for $3600)

8. Upon modifying the kegerator for a stout with 40+ psi, I open the faucet for the first time, soaking my entire frontal crotch area.

7. I decide to sell the "Beaver", sad day

6. AutoCAD classes (2-4) get canceled due to lack of enrollment. Unfortunately no one can register for session 2 till we pass 1, which were still in when we get the news that its canceled. Pissed off.

5. Miss an appointment at CSU because the truck breaks a stabilizer bar and death wobbles all over the road upon meeting railroad tracks. Try and fix it, and fubar the steering on accident. Leave Nebraska 3 days late.

4. Find out I didnt get my dream job with the BLM because a retired asthmatic overweight vet whos never been on the river got the job with 10 preference point while I have a perfect resume and 0 points.

3. All six containers of milk I have bought since January have expired before I could use any of it.

2. My first day of rafting for the season: 40 degrees and snowing/raining, windy....

1. Apply for an extension to get my tax refund.

Origins....

Tauntaun Bag....

Dan hinted me on the this.... notice the zipper....WOW

Via: Thinkgeek

The Happening....

Taxes, ski movies, dirt bike movies, brewing beer, all kinds of GPS and GIS hacking, I still got this damned runny nose, landscaping, furniturescaping, tiling, and listening to music (MGMT, Pinback) really loud the whole time. Thats whats happening. As well, applying to grad school, prepping for the river season, and sucking down massive quantities of coffee, then falling asleep.

As you can see Ive developed a new technique for vertical tiling....posterboard. Hopefully it stays in place just long enough for me to move out....


And my birthday present, which I cant open til my official birthday, sad. I am now no longer the worlds only cartographer/mapper sans GPS. I have already documented and downloaded everything I need to hack the shit out of it, stoked!

NOT Warblegarble....

Via: dogs-looking-like-people

I Love Diapers....

via Neatorama

R.I.P.

Shane McConkey has moved on to the eternal ski movie....

Why Wake Up?....

....When your dreaming and:

A. youre at a sweet swimming pool
B. the pool is loaded with attractive females
C. one of which singles you out and comes over for conversation
1. when you find out shes receiving electroshock therapy next door
2. she has massive stainless rods pierced in her back
D. theres a swim up McDonalds (to make you barf in the pool)


I need some popcorn.....

Joke....

Three men stand before St. Peter awaiting admission into Heaven. However, St. Peter has been informed that Heaven will only admit 33% of applicants today. The admissions standard: Who died the worst death? So, St. Peter takes each of the three men aside in turn and asks them about how they died.

First man: "I'd been suspecting for a long time that my wife was cheating on me. I decided to come home early from work one afternoon and check to see if I could catch her in the act. When I got back to my apartment, I heard the water running. My wife was in the shower. I looked everywhere for the guy, but couldn't find anyone or any trace that he had been there. The last place I looked was out on the balcony.

I found the bastard hanging from the edge, trying to get back in! So I started jumping up and down on his hands, and he yelled, but he didn't fall. So I ran inside and got a hammer, and crushed his fingers with it until he fell twenty-five floors screaming in agony. But the fall didn't kill the asshole. He landed in some bushes! So I dragged the refrigerator from the kitchen (it weighed about a ton), pulled it to the balcony, and hurled it over the edge. It landed right on the guy and killed him. But then I felt so horrible about what I had done, I went back into the bedroom and shot myself."

St. Peter nodded slowly as the man recounted the story. Then, telling the first man to wait, he took the second aside.

Second man: "I lived on the twenty-seventh floor of this apartment building. I had just purchased this book on morning exercises and was practicing them on my balcony, enjoying the sunshine, when I lost my balance and fell off the edge. Luckily, I only fell about two floors before grabbing another balcony and holding on for dear life. I was trying to pull myself up when this guy came running onto what must have been his balcony and started jumping up and down on my hands. I screamed in pain, but he seemed really irate. When he finally stopped, I tried to pull myself up again, but he came out with a hammer and smashed my fingers to a pulp! I fell, and I thought I was dead, but I landed in some bushes. I couldn't believe my second stroke of luck, but it didn't last. The last thing I saw was this enormous refrigerator falling from the building down on top of me and crushing me."

St. Peter comforted the man, who seemed to have several broken bones. Then he told him to wait, and turned to the third man.

Third man: "Picture this. You're hiding, naked, in a refrigerator..."

Updates....

Im sick of not getting jobs. Dream jobs.
Im also sick from travelling. Airplane reciculators are dumb.
Funny thing is this happened on the way to DC to help Dr. Lynn move back into the USA.

Story time:
Theres more women in DC than men, and it seems most are reasonably cool and attractive. 2 things that are definitely ok for a specific city to have. Santa Fe on teh other hand is full of worn out old wrinkly, spiritually defunct lesbians. A night at the bar here is always lacking. Tangent. After a great night of hanging out with Tom and Cillian, at this ultra dive little bar in Mt. Pleasant, where everybody had to go home bc theys gots jobs, and the neighboring building was a blackened burnt stone shell from a not too recent structure fire, my walk home began (5 miles approx). About half way in the night of DC where theres no traffic and barely any lights and rumors of getting robbed and shived, I realise I have to pee. Bad. I stop and ask a cop car directions and they confirm my travel plans are indeed correct. A couple more blocks and Im starting to scan the area for a spot to handle the drainage in utmost secrecy and security. But down the street I spy what appears to be a bar, and the only building with any light on in the entire trip home, so I venture forth.
This happy little place is all lit up with a joyous crowd inside, so I sneak in and take care of business and saddle up at the bar to show my gratitude. After a couple beers and some interesting conversation, I feel the need to glance around and find out the name of this bar, to shed some light on the conversational topics at hand. The same feel that I felt with Dustin in Amsterdam, that he soooo obviously felt hours before it was apparent to me. With my glance towards the window all was confirmed....this was a gay bar. Strangely I was comforted with feelings of safety, because I know that everyone already knows that Im the only straight guy here.
Some more beer and conversations and laughing and then there came a point of definition. Defined by two characters in different chats. One, a nice gay guy, telling me Im cute, asks if I "party"? I respond yes and no and what does that mean? He leaves. Then the beautiful black lady I was chatting with asks the same. I respond the same. Then she asks me if Im a cop. WTF? Explaining later that Im invited over for some blow after teh bar. Clearly not my cup of tea, I decline, as I forgot the city of DC has many a friend in coke.
I make it home via a ride from a nice gay man, and almost sleep on the floor.
The next day was ikea furniture assembly day...ugh

Fish Bars....

Two things happened this week outside of getting rejected for over 25 jobs that I was over qualified for, shaving, and dog madness. Those would be eating an entire box of fish sticks....

....feeling sick for 12 hours, and putting the new handlebars on the Klein that Damon gave me.

So now we got a super trick race bike with cruiser bars. The comf-master.