Ever since reading Bill Bryson’s book A Walk In The Woods I’ve been dreaming of taking a few months off from work and hiking the Appalachian Trail. But with the work environment as it currently is, I don’t think it’d be very smart to quit my job. But a man still can dream, can’t he?
I managed to get home an hour early last night, and while dinner was cooking I thought I’d waste a few minutes and scan the web for interesting hiking info when I stumbled upon this fellow Condor who hiked the entirety of the Pacific Crest Trail:
Bonus points if you spotted the butterfly.
Hmm…living on the west coast, the Pacific Crest Trail is much closer to me (practically right outside my front door), and I might be able to hike it in weekly stages. Hmmm….
Great, I feel another obsession creeping up on me (I’m great at collecting these). Excuse me while I hunt down a few maps…
I glued…GLUED!…to this clip. I couldn’t wait to see how it ended, and I was not disappointed.
Apparently, the goal of this race is to go as slow as possible, baiting your opponent to ride ahead of you so you can surprise him with a quick burst of speed at the end.
This clip is nothing short of fascinating:
I know this is a slightly longer clip than I tend to post, but it’s well worth the view.
My San Diego Chargers won their opening game against the Vikings this past Sunday, and nobody could be more excited about that game than me…
…well, let me take that statement back. It seems as if this guy is a bit more excited.
After watcing the Viking’s Percy Harvin return the initial kickoff for 103 yards, this football fanatic was unable to contain himself.
One football fan is just a bit too excited about the start of the season...
I mean, I feel for the guy. After several beers, a Red Bull, two shots of Bulgarian Rakia and 20oz of Gatorade I too feel the call of nature. But at least I have the good grace to seek out a restroom and not let loose in my seat. On national TV.
I’m all for expressions of faith, but the “pointing to the heavens” every time a professional athlete catches a football, makes a touchdown, hits a home run, pulls a hat trick, scores a goal, does a hairpin net shot, knocks an opponent out with a wicked hospital pass, dunks the rock, chops the lob, spins a draw to the jacks, knocks a strike as the anchor, rescues an eagle from casual water, rips an entry from a pike position, or even skewers an opponent upon opening gambit, he or she points up to the heavens to thank the lord above for making such a move possible.
Far be it for me to demand that such symbolic gestures cease, but I wonder if professional athletes give as much thanks for their dropped balls as they do for the ones that they catch. Isn’t dropping a ball just as big of a miracle as a caught one? For once I’d like to see Greg Jennings, DeSean Jackson or Hines Ward drop a game-changing third down pass lobbed straight at their numbers, then point at the sky and give thanks.
