Sunday, June 24, 2007

She lies and says she's in love with him



Hello there.



Today was a laaaazy day. I left the house three times, but I was only gone maybe an hour, aggregate.



Net.



En toto.

{Those rock formations look like monsters.}



We walked Puck twice for fifteen minutes (jointly and severally) and I rode my bike alongside Stanette while she ran six miles. (She ran 13.5 miles Saturday. Craisins. Hardcore.)



In amongst all that outside-of-the-house activity, I managed to eat bacon twice before noon. Eggs over-medium, pepper-onion hash browns and crispy bacon; For lunch, I had spinach salad with grape tomato(e)s and some more sweet, crispy bacon.



I think that is even more noteworthy than running a mere twenty miles in two days.



The bitch of it is that I was trying to hit for the cycle.



I wanted to lay down a bacon cheeseburger for dinner. Or maybe have a bacon-wrapped filet. Or a bacon-wrapped water chestnut.

{Wait. What was that? Back up. What was that picture?}



But the third base coach wouldn't let me bring it home.



Instead, I had a couple of brats, Wisconsin-style. (Simmered in onions and beer, then grilled.)



Fortunately for me, bratwurst contains pork.



Whew!



I'd hate to miss a chance to dine on swine.



I mainlined pork today.



And yesterday, if you want to get technical.



I may have pulled my groin.



Or maybe the bacon is just repeating on me.



Also, we had pork chops for dinner last night.



[Seriously. It's funny how easy pork goes down. Like mother's milk. It starts with a casual bacon crumble. Then it progresses to ham. Before you know it, you're in a flophouse in East Baltimore, gnawing on a pickled pig's foot, crying sweet tears.



Granted, those tears are pure pigfat, but hey.]



Where was I?



There are beads of bacon grease forming on my brow.



On Saturday, Bells and I took our kayaks through Beartrap Canyon.



It was gorgeous.



Also, it was the biggest water either of us has ever run.



It is called "Beartrap" because the river zigs and zags like the teeth of a bear trap.



There were three big drops.



The last one was the Kitchen Sink.



This stretch you are looking at is Class IV.



Here is a really short, three-second video of the flow:



That is solid.

We scouted it; I ran it first. It was exhilrating, believe me. It was a little more jolt than your average frappucino.

I got lucky and nailed it.

Bells, however, was not so lucky.

He dumped his boat, dropped his paddle, got back in his boat and then dumped again.

It was scary, and it was one of those situations where you feel bad about laughing, but ...



Fuckin' A.



I saw it and started laughing. He looked and started laughing.

We laughed for a while.

I said, "Dude, this is going on the blog."

Bells coughed up some river water and said, "O.K., but make it classy."

Make it classy.

You think I'm making this up?

I wish.

Make it classy.





I'm classy.



Classy like back bacon.

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6 Comments:

Blogger Tanaya said...

I thought that was what I saw in the first picture up above! Poor Bells, I hope the river was worth it.

8:28 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Classy! Class-e!

Anyone who goes kayaking down the rapids in a long-sleeve, button-down, collared shirt is definitely classy. A bit weird maybe but classy.

8:09 AM  
Anonymous mop said...

^^oops, that was me^^

8:09 AM  
Blogger Motor City Monk said...

PURE CLASS.

Go ahead, use it for your next band's name. It's on me...sort of.

12:44 PM  
Blogger verlaine said...

It's hard to believe an inflatable kayak can withstand rapids like that. All I can relate those inflatable kayaks to is the raft me and my brother had as kids that would spring leaks when it got within 10 feet of a rock.

1:15 PM  
Blogger hotlipz said...

Maybe you could convert the photos to black and white for a classier touch?

Also, that last pic of you standing in the middle of a river fully clothed is very John from Cincinnati.

9:09 AM  

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