it's 1am and i'm a third of the way through a growler of super tastey beer my cousin brewed. i need to finnish it before my sister picks me up at 5 am to drive me to the airport for my flight to costa rica. if i don't it'll go flat by the time i get back. and since i'm sure to be in extreme pain and suffering moral, physical and possibly venerial(?) defeat, the last thing i want to come home to is half a growler of flat beer. la ruta is calling, and i'm providing some kind of an answer. that answer is probably something along the lines of "why the fuck not?", or "if it hurts too much, there's always $20 hookers.".

so on that note, here's some pretty pictures of autumn leaves i took yesterday:

la eile, dolar eile.

blah.

fear siuil i mbosca.

i feel like this white carpet, well lit existance is killing me. i feel like i should be sleeping in a shack in the woods, the desert. laying my head down under a bridge or in a ditch, the sky above me instead of a white painted cieling, insulation and a new-ish roof. thousands of miles behind me, between me and wherever it is i've been. a basest existance. to sleep road-weary, to wake with the sun. i need adventure, i need to be back on the road.

when i'm in this house i feel nothing. life shouldn't be about holding back one's desires.

a lan nios easca

ingredients for a good night ride:

good group of bros (and/or bro-ettes)
malfunctioning lights
getting lost
bermy, fast, fun singletrack
bermy, fast fun quad trails
mechanicals
sand pits
sweet downhills
part of the group getting lost
railroad tracks
rural overpasses with graffiti covered supports
a tunnel in the middle of nowhere
a normally submerged bridge across a low resevoir
a normally submerged trail along the shore of a low resevoir
a partially submerged ride of faith across a hidden bridge in a resevoir

http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/episode/view.do?episodePk.pkValue=4350043

cupla amharc mo

ni mharcaigh me inniu, ach b'feidir go marcoidh me fos. teist do mo sholais cinn.