Interesting night ride last night. I took a lot of pictures. Appropriately, most of them came out as a complete blur, which I guess is only natural when you combine barhopping, singletrack, and Christmas light-gazing into one, very surreal 25-person night ride.
Emphasis on surreal.
Clearest picture I took all night: Hackett bleeding from his face. And I think that's saying something.
And even if I can eventually process the significance of drinking a beer while sitting on Santa's lap in a stranger's yard at night where the only thing brighter than his Christmas lights display is the two dozen or so HID's that just crashed the party, I'm not sure I could put that feeling into words anyway. So I'll just trail off here with a few pictures and a slight headache. I should drink some water.
Suffice it to say that the Holidays are upon us, and the Christmas spirit is very much alive - even if it's a little late to work this morning.
On Dasher, on Dancer, on Tigger, and so forth.
Up, up, up.