I've hit the breaking point.
This past weekend I rolled my El Santo and El Mariachi into our offices for folks to take a gander at during Frostbike.
Maybe it was just touching them again after leaving them hanging on hooks since October?
Maybe it was seeing the dirt encrusted frames?
Maybe it was...heck, I don't know what it was. I like snow riding as much as the next guy but I miss the dirt. I miss the singletrack, the grass and leaves, the roots and rocks, and the mud. I miss the camping, the laughter, the bugs, and tiki torches.
Then to make matters worse, Shuji visits us from Japan and brings us a bunch of photos from last year's Sol Sessions experience.
How can I look at an image like this and not dream of dirt?
Dreaming in Minnesota,
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