Since we last spoke, my season ended. It actually ended back at Shenandoah, and I just didn't know it. No Tree Shaker, no Swank 65, and now no Double Dare, or at least not in the truest sense. I'm still going to go down there, and I'm going to try to talk Eric out of a passport, but I don't have a partner, and I don't think it'll count.
Which, given my perspective of late, is just fine with me.
This weekend was to be about suffering for 24 hours with friends who enjoy that sort of thing as a break from the rest of life. I'm down one partner, but rode with four other guys this past week that rekindled my desire to go out and do this. Even as a few more parking lot beers hit, and the conversation turned to "fond" memories of TMHTE, I still new I was hanging with the right crowd. Even though the right crowd might very well kill me someday.
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