You know the feeling of discontent? The discontent that’s felt when you can’t seem to figure out what fulfillment is or find a little joy in day-to-day life. When you feel each hour spent doing the same shit is just another hour scratched off the ticker. When your job requires you to engage in mundane task but you can’t get your mind off genuine passion. The discontent when you know you’re making concessions in your own well being to fulfill the duties of a “respectable adult life.” David Foster Wallace describes this reality brilliantly in his commencement speech, This is Water (you should watch it).
And I submit that this is what the real, no bullshit value of your liberal arts education is supposed to be about: how to keep from going through your comfortable, prosperous, respectable adult life dead, unconscious, a slave to your head and to your natural default setting of being uniquely, completely, imperially alone day in and day out. That may sound like hyperbole, or abstract nonsense. Let’s get concrete. The plain fact is that you graduating seniors do not yet have any clue what “day in day out” really means. There happen to be whole, large parts of adult American life that nobody talks about in commencement speeches. One such part involves boredom, routine and petty frustration. The parents and older folks here will know all too well what I’m talking about.
I’m not that old but I was starting to feel like it, and that sort of thing doesn’t fly around here. So we make changes right? Switch things up a bit. Long story short, I unemployed myself, packed the car, and am now sleeping on Samwhich’s floor in Boulder, shredding trail and sipping ales. I credit much of these decisions to Dirty and the Semi-Rad Brendan, for better or worse.
So yesterday life took me to Lyons and I met Dave from Redstone Cyclery. What a cool dude and awesome bike fixer. Not only does he really take care of your ride, but he gives you some good conversation. His shop 100% has the DC (tramp)stamp of approval and you should stop by and give a shout next time your in the area.
I asked Dave to prepare my shitty wheels for all out war with the Rock Garden at Hall Ranch. I haven’t ripped trail since 24 HOP and gravely lacked the skill required to ride any of this stuff with finesse. Rather than go between the rocks, I’d go at the rocks. You know, what better way to get re-acclimated after a long lazy winter than by getting the shit kicked out of you by a bunch of rocks. So I endo’d in a big way at this junction called Rooty (because there were tree roots, get it?). It was the straight up and down kind of endo where everything is slow motion and you’re looking at Earth from some feet above scoping out which rock looks the fluffiest.
Before injuries set in, I pedaled my broken ass straight back to Redstone to a fridge full of cold beer. mmmmm cold beer. Chad from REEB walks in with some fresh Dale’s and we drank some more beer. mmmmm more beer. It was a rad Sunday and that’s all I gotta say about that. Now I’m sitting in a library because it’s snowing inches and I look elderly when I walk, and those things don’t correlate well with shred. But tomorrow’s another day..
Next stop, Preskit.by