2-16-2010

Rising above the Owens Valley, our skins got wet climbing in the low elevation sun down in the high desert sage, and then froze when we climbed into the shadow, glomming onto our skin plush. Here my buddy has had to stop to scrape off his skins, again. This sport is hard, and we sort of thrive on the toil and frustrations, but sometimes it gets a bit too exquisite, gratuitously so, like borderline mockery, and we just have to laugh along, or say, not today.