02/10/08
My fingers are so dry-rotted from the cold that every key I hit with my right hand sends off fireworks in my nerves, please bare with me on the already bad typing here as this condition is only making it harder.

This e-mail will lack in numbers of pictures and will mostly be about where my head is after this trip so if your a shallow person and only care for my imagery and have yet to read my words then you can piss off, all others have a looksie.

Having taken such a long break from my life I have had a few things become very clear. They are as listed:

I am only comfortable when I:

A: Have no dependents.
B: Am broke.
C: Have something to be doing that I am not.
D: Have people to see allowing me to use them as an excuse as to why I have to leave the people I am seeing.
E: A Cycle made in I.T.
F: Know I will not be in the same bed for over a week.
G: Have a plane ticket to someplace else.
H: Have a car that will go over 150MPH.
I: Have a computer that is anything but new and uberfast.
J: Parents that are my friend more then my parents (I am lucky).

I have two BMWs that both are in need of rear tires (surprised?) Three Ducaits, everyone of which is in boxes. A Van that I cannot register in my name. One Hell of an apartment I am never at. Three road bikes that are both ridden hard and put away wet. A perfect mountain bike that I loaned to a friend as I was unworthy of keeping such a nice thing. My fixed gear that is perfect in it's simplicity and the easiest thing I have to enjoy but hardly efficient. A family that is overly talented in every why imaginable but about as dysfunctional as a family has ever been (Including myself, I am no angel). A career that is winding down. A body that is getting old with a head of hair that grey as can be and a mind with direction but no place to go with it. To top it all off, Friends that need me to be more of a friend as I have been lacking over the last few years.

Where the hell am I going with this?(as I ask myself)

My life is to injected with complexity (My Doing). Money is fun but I will always have food in front of me, thanks to the fam and my friends. The Toys I have are just that, toys. They don't rule me like they did when I had my first serious Ducati in my living room (Never-again). I will never have the relationship I have always told myself I would (Lucky parents for showing me what could be). We need not think about what should or shouldn't be, what the fuck do we know?

I am comfortable only when everything is not right. Therapy maybe? HaHaHa Come and catch me!

An-My and I leave tomorrow for New Zealand where we will stay for two days. Once done there we are off to the air for 22 hours of soul delay back to the East Coast. This summer will bring with it interesting times I hope. I feel a change in the air and with a new person as I feel the one I am needs an upgrade. I am a nightmare and happen to be ok with it.

Thanks for being interested enough in my trips and my images for you to endure my rants. I hope that when I am not able to do this that someone else will show me places and things I cannot reach. Get off your asses and see the world, you could be dead tomorrow. //db2.0

This was my reward for climbing Ob Hill before 9AM. Thank you very much.

My heart rate had me preying to this. Inscribed in this are the names of Scott and his crew who didn't make it home. Hard fellows they were. Circa 1912

I suppose this was also worth it. I have to tell you that it was blowing about 40Knots up here and the temp was around 5F, what does that make the windchill? Cold Cold Cold. That is Williams Air Field there in the upper right if you care to know.

As you can now see, I had to get a picture of myself with this sign. The Kiwi's made this nice addition and put it on without telling anyone, those whipper snappers sure have me laughing my ass off. Over 2 Billion fat people served! The best use of the golden arches ever in my eyes.

Estas imágenes son mías. Fueron tomadas por mí y voy a patear follando
En sus pechos si se copia a fin de que se informó de Derecho de Autor
Dan Benson. ¡Salud!