life is but a dream...

After a long and tiring day of building trails I didn't feel ambitious enough to do extended play laps in the park yesterday. Then I had a flashback like something out of fear and loathing. I could hear the gentle strumming of a harp as I drifted off into a past state of being. Reader discretion is advised. Some dramatization may occur in this re-telling of events:

In my flashback it was January, I was back in Quesnel, BC trying to study for a physics exam while the snow was mercilessly falling outside. While lost in papers my thoughts turned to the bike park. I was sitting, with pen in hand, dreaming of how amazing the park was going to be for the '07 season. I would have ridden anything at that moment, even a run down B-line in the pouring rain. I could hear the drone of the chair-lift that scoops me off my feet and carries me to the top. I could taste the grainy dirt in my teeth. I could hear the muffled sounds of hoots and hollers coming from an unseen trail. And the widening of my eyes upon seeing a flock of biker chicks hanging out at the Garbanzo Bike and Bean. All these heavenly sensations were flowing through me while I sat in class dreaming of the bike park, but back in the real world a transit bus driver was angrily blasting his horn at me for only half crossing the street before stopping to think. Instead of going the rest of the way across the street, I turned 180 and headed back towards the village. Even though I was sore from work, and my bike was chainless, I thought it best to listen to my past self and do some laps while the elusive sun was shining on some of the best trails on earth.