Tsali - May, 2001

Ahh yes...some things never grow old... We're back again. There were a few trips in between, but this is the first year of my dedicated digital camera, so the pics are more numerous. November 1999 pictures in the last post were taken with my old, long ago eBayed, Nikon 6006. The new HP 315 digital camera was super fancy for the day...2.1 megapixels!! WOOHOO!

Same format as before...old text in italics, new twist in block-font.

Brett experiences a moment of lucidity in another otherwise drunken haze of a weekend. "Wait a minute! This is NOT my XTerra!!"

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Lots of haze during these years...nobody had a decent woman, nobody needed to impress anybody. We just sat around until 4am drinking gallons of Rolling Rock by the campfire and tried to recover enough the next day so as to not ride off the cliff into Fontana Lake, or puke on our SPDs, or puke on our SPDs on our way over the cliff into the lake.

This picture points up the side road toward the secondary parking lot. I think about a third of those crappy, beat little kayaks are still sitting in that rack for sale!

Matt making a poor case for supporting his recent parole.

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Remember what I said about Matt and no normal pictures? There you go...

Gary attempts to drive with a lunatic in the passenger seat.Nice Shirt! Too bad they went belly-up. The good ones always seem to...

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Hey, I still have that shirt! Interbike Philly, 1995.

Brett and Matt, enjoying a warm breakfast on the deck of the River's End Restaurant.

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Me going to town on the fabled "Popeye Omelet". Note gratuitous use of ketchup for potatoes.

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And my diamond Stud ear ring. Good god was I an a$$. I think all fat, old, sad men have a closet full of North Face shirts. Like the hat says...Life is Good!

Contemplating the river...

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Matt.

...more contemplating...

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even more....

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Brett.

@&%$# this contemplating! I'm drinking the fargin' thing!

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Utahdog!

One for the desktop back at work.

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I miss that truck. The one residual downside of getting married, and having a child. No 2-seat, 5 speed, four wheel drive Japanese trucks filled with smelly dog toys and even smellier Shimano cycling shoes.

Gary takes a break from bike maintenance.

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Could be an Iranian terrorist, actually. Who can tell? That other guy in the picture, on the right there, is one of Gary's cronies from out west. Some weird little stumpy dude that buys and sells cars for a living, or something like that.

back to that contemplating thing

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The EWR sits atop the rack with Matt's Spooky. Matt was all down on the Spooky folks for the poor customer service they provided him in replacing his orange June Bug (residual bad Karma would shortly sink Spooky). Later, he would buy the EWR from me when I made the decision to get back to Light Weight. EWR...another excellent product felled by economics.
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And of course today, both Spooky and EWR are back at it, and or course, I own the EWR once again, after realizing that a California Mass-Produced POS wasn't a substitute at all for the EWR goodness. I still question Spooky's direction. I never understood Spooky. Matt's action, not mine.

Matt unloads the 250. It would later eat his ACL/MCL.
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Utah struts his bandage. While retrieving sticks from Fontana Lake, he cut open his leg on some broken glass. He was fine in no time.
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I miss the old smelly beast. He was a good man.