what happens down in mexico...
Yay, my computer's working again! this is convenient because now i can blog about my long, semi-exciting weekend. i went to mexico and well... what happends down in mexico ain't gonna stay in mexico (at least not as far as blogs are conserned). so we planned to ride a little over 300 miles on our dirtbikes/quads. (annual mexico riding trip with family friends). anyways, everything goes well for the first three days. my awesome yamaha yz426f pulled through again and ripped the crap out of those pussy sand dunes. on day 2 i found a sick jump that was a good 20 feet long with a nice landing. on day 3 i jumped that hill all morning, and went for a long ride in the afternoon. 20 miles out, i get a flat tire. one hour later, the bike limps home. day 4 : no bike. however, my dad let me take out his banshee (that's a quad... a big quad). I, being an experienced dirtbiker have never really ridden a quad. nonetheless, i ride out to the jump, line up, hit third gear and catch a good 13-14 feet of air. the landing was, well... different. personally i think there are just two too many tires on quads. but after wacking my knee on the handle bars, i got the hang of things. Life without a dirtbike sucks. i was forced to lay out on the beach, relax, and then party :^( you may ask yourself, "what is there to do in mexico without a dirtbike"? and the answer is, "drink and blow stuff up" where else can you buy alcohol and fireworks in the same store?
maybe i find this next story funny because i was buzzed at 12 in the morning, but i went to a little firework store, and they took me to a really small back room. there laid a plethora of fireworks, some stacked on a STOVE, some next to the OVEN. That's right, a room with air dense form the white dust of gunpowder, had fireworks on the stove top, as well as along every wall (much like a meth lab). To further paint this picture: there were bags of gunpowder, m-80's, bottle rockets, lady fingers, bumble bee's, smoke bombs, etc. but of course all i was interested in was the big stuff. The little old lady didn't impress me with her description of rockets consisting of "color and boom" or "no color, just boom" i said cut the crap senorita, where's the good stuff? then she pulled out a stick of dynamite. you may say dynamite? yeah right, how do you know it was really Dynamite? the answer is simple, it was a roll of newspaper with the word Dynamite written across it in black ink. on the other side, one could be reassured that the Dynamite was authentic and safe, because it had the words "made in usa'' written on it with a black sharpe. to make a long story short, i settled for some rockets, m-80's, and a bottle of gin. geez mexico is great!
maybe i find this next story funny because i was buzzed at 12 in the morning, but i went to a little firework store, and they took me to a really small back room. there laid a plethora of fireworks, some stacked on a STOVE, some next to the OVEN. That's right, a room with air dense form the white dust of gunpowder, had fireworks on the stove top, as well as along every wall (much like a meth lab). To further paint this picture: there were bags of gunpowder, m-80's, bottle rockets, lady fingers, bumble bee's, smoke bombs, etc. but of course all i was interested in was the big stuff. The little old lady didn't impress me with her description of rockets consisting of "color and boom" or "no color, just boom" i said cut the crap senorita, where's the good stuff? then she pulled out a stick of dynamite. you may say dynamite? yeah right, how do you know it was really Dynamite? the answer is simple, it was a roll of newspaper with the word Dynamite written across it in black ink. on the other side, one could be reassured that the Dynamite was authentic and safe, because it had the words "made in usa'' written on it with a black sharpe. to make a long story short, i settled for some rockets, m-80's, and a bottle of gin. geez mexico is great!
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