biltwell
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Yesterday was gyped day.  My wife and I spent over 40 dollars on dinner somehow and are still trying to figure out what hit us.  I got shorted 37 cents on a check because the cent amount wasn't in the box on the far right of the check (note to self).  that over-priced, starchy dinner came back to haunt me after Sean Wildebeast Newton and I drove almost an hour to the Dowagiac park.  We got there just before dark, rode for about 10-15 minutes and then it was just too dark to shred.  We waited for a few and the lights came on (albeit slowly).  We resumed the sesh, and I started feeling lightheaded with a clammy sweat.  It's some sort of blood-sugar crash that I've experienced for years, although not very often.  I think it's really a vegetarian problem.  If I eat a bunch of starchy carbs and no protein, it burns off really quickly and shit goes haywire.  I found a smashed up granola bar in the bus, ate it, and I was normal again.  Unfortunately, the weather had taken a nosedive and monsoons were coming in.  The rains hit hard and fast and we were back out. Two hours of driving for twenty minutes of BMX.  Dammit. 

     My friends McGoo and Bill Bryant run Biltwell, as well as being the main guys behind Snafu.   Goodest dudes ever.  Bill's Triumph is a site to behold. 

This is what a man's motorcycle should look like.  I've been working hard on my old Honda and my goal for this weekend is for it to roar to life.  that might be a lofty goal.   I need to take to my trails and do burn outs on the runways.   I jumped some more jumps today and I'm stoked.  Stoked after being bummed about being a wuss.  Hitting jumps for the first time is scary bizness, especially when the jumps are soft and the trail is rough.   fuck it. fuck me.  fuck you.  not you, but them.  I told myself I was gonna stop swearing.  I lied.  I wonder if Ryan Garvock still reads this blog?