Fish Food (DU's Final Virgin Islands Report)
I was perched on a mangrove stump next to Mary's Lagoon, reading the misleadingly named Touching the Void (I'd picked it up at the airport assuming it would be a field guide to SB's cerebral cortex. It was, in fact, about mountain climbing) when I heard a scream.
I looked up to see Zack, hip-deep in the tidal bay, dancing wildly and holding a thrashing four-foot reef shark by the tail. The poor creature was throwing a fine spray of salt water into the air as it gyrated about, mouth agape and clearly panicked. The shark was equally agitated.
Z had been fly fishing for bonefish on the sand flats when Jaws slammed his size 4 Green Meanie lure, and now the food chain appeared to be going through a review process.
"Dad!!!! He just took a chunk out of my finger!!! What should I do?!!!"
"Don't bleed in the water, Z... you might attract more."
I went back to my reading, thinking how tough it must be to put a climbing trip together in the Andes, what with everything being so remote and all. This book really made you realize how logistically challenging a big mountain is when you're faced with a multi-day approach and precious few local resources.
"Dad!!! He's trying to kill me!!"
Sure enough, though held at arm's length, the shark was coming within millimeters of Zack's ribs, each determined lunge bringing its snapping teeth closer to paydirt. Dark shapes could be seen gliding in across the turquoise flats to Zack's right. How cool; Zack had stumbled on a whole fleet of the buggers.
Kids, Â I thought, returning to the book, they get into the damnedest predicaments sometimes. Just like the guy in this story. Imagine having your rope cut, then plummeting deep into a crevasse. Reminded me of the time...
Like Leno, Steve Is Bumped to a Later Spot
Underwood posted right over me this morning. Sheesh, how's that for "I missed you while I was gone"?! Yeah right, pal!
Dr. Werner thinks we need to follow this video's example to relieve stress.
Obviously, he hasn't been on a Frenzy ride lately.
Not sure what I've done to offend the gods (well, in truth, I'm pleading the 5th on that one). I had rear flat number three this morning on the commute in.
That's right, this time "the truck" flatted! Since it's a different bike with a different tube and since it happened in a different place, I can only conclude I've been eating too much ice cream and pizza.
Add to that misfortune the return of DU, and it's clear for everyone to see, I'm cursed.
He's back! Good ride with my long lost pal, Dave, today. Finally reunited!
I was able to determine that these rear flats are just a fluke—not the result of added ice cream and pizza weight—too!
Unbeknownst to Adriana, I borrowed her carbon-fiber wheels and rode up Flag without any flats. Yay!