I Stomp You Stomp We Al Will Not Not Stomp...
Yes, Steve. I am Jacked In. And While I am Not Not Stomping, I am Not Stomping with the Stompaz up the Pass of Independence on the Day of the Same Name.
I am Stuck down here in the Hot as Fuck of Carbondale. Which, Generally speaking, is not a bad place to be stuck in the hot as fuck of. Went out to breakfast on the Xtra, in the cool of this morning, with the little guys, they were playing the Star Wars Main Theme on Aspen Public Radio, so we blasted it. I plan on taking the Tiny Stompaz over to the Fire Station on the for the waterfight-- maybe check out the Bluesy Lady in da park later.
Not everyone can just pedal up mountains whenever they feel like it (Or can they?_)
So while everyone here naps, I sit and imagine you-- climbing up in your rag-tag peleton-- flying your little flags -- with your musical bottles and whimsical retro costuems-- a faint smell of Dirt,Scabs and Bacon in our wake. Kicking ass up that hill and playing righteously in the patches of snow you find. Then sailing down frolicky and fast, a tiny bubble of PBR balanced within your bellies, your tears of joy blowing back acrosss your temples and filling up your ears.
Bring some snow back for me eh? Did I mention it's hot down here?
The moral of the story being that while we will never not stomp, some mountains we must save for later. There will be things we must do. But whether we be sick, too tired or busy, or just old and frail-- there will always be Stompaz out there getting it done. For Us, for themselves, and for the Great Pedal Stroker.
Say Hello to Him for me while you're up there. Happy Indefuckinpendence Day Lopaz. .
July 4th is followed shortly thereafter by July 5th, which is, so they tell me, the start of the Tour de France...
I will be moving out of my current residence every morning pre-dawn to catch the live coverage. I'm sure someone's still jacked in, somewhere.
Where to go, what to do?
Luckily this year there is a Dopers Only category...? the ones wearing pink, of course. We'll see who wins, and who spontaneously combusts.
The day took on a sublime quality at Independence Pass. The physical exhaustion, the dizzying effect of the beers, the rareness of the steak strips, and, of course, the nearness to the Heavens combined to form a sort of spiritual Magic Carpet. The civilian passers-by could only bear witness to an inscrutable and undefined religious event. They were clearly in another country now. Cheers to the three jolly blokes that actually elevated into our state and appeared to be happier and fatter than engorged sun-bathing marmots. Watching one of them recline on the trailered snowmobile, draped in the nation's proud flag, raising his Pabst to the crystal sky, drunk with America, I realized that we were not only on the highpoint of Highway 82, but on the highpoint of Freedom itself.
Thank you to the drivers of the Yukon of Blinding White Salvation and to the weavers of the Magic Carpet
the answer derived while enjoying some QT in the pain cave seems to B>> bein' in there with a lil help from yer friendz, with some amazing friends, some damn fine STOMPAz!<, new and old, as yet unnamed and otherwise, StOMPn' along, well the ol' cave becomes quite agreeable, some would even say PleaSant?! WHoda guessed?! aand as per always and forevererer, thankS so much, it is an honor and privilege a duty i perform 2stomp with all ya'll, maybe we could do it again sometime?
From beginning till end, this fourth was truly incredible (except when I
was in the pain cave on level 8 and I dropped my flashlight and thought I
would never get out). Luckily light came in the form of a Red, White, and
Blue PBR can; a glorious symbol of what America has to offer. It was an
incredible sight to see the stompa pack mashing and mushing in the spirit
of an ever strenghtening amoeba morphing and absorbing people as the
journey pushed uphill. Top out and drop out. The Party starts with hoops,
music, grillage, fruit boots, sleds, skiis, snowboards, liquid
libations... all those cars and motorbikes coming and going to where?
When the place to be was here and now! Some strangers realize the
pinnacle of their lives would be the stomarillaz party and the amoeba
strenthens again. Chaos ensues and time leaks away, back on the bikes to
witness the insanity of 40+ mph speeds and a unstable 50 lbs extracycle
pickin up mphs. THrough the Asspen and onward. It felt like the pedals
would never stop, and they never should. For me, the longest ride of my
life so far, the longest day on the same damn seat, my first group road
ride, the deepest exploration into the pain cave, renewed spirit from
great rides and great vibes, and luck enough to spend it with great
people. Special thanks to all involved for my renewed love for the simple
tool we call: bicycle.
Well as you yourself know all too well, attempting to not not not stomp is just a bit to complicated, so stomping will probably occur from sometime around polo tomorrow until about monday if'n i had to guess.
