BRAAAAAAP!! (Jared's graduation present)

The dictionary defines the word wretched as follows: "characterized by physical misery; very unhappy; full of misery". There is a season—not of love, life, or creation—that causes wretchedness to flow through my veins like rodenticide rat poison. This season I so bitterly speak of is known as summer. A majority of you faithful blog stalkers are in disaccord with this truth so let me explain. I will list what I have to enjoy and so faithfully look forward to during the summer: I love the allergies and all of it’s accompanying symptoms (swollen shut eyes, itchy throat, sneezing, no sleep, throwing out money for prescription medicine that rarely works). I love sweating. There is nothing quite like sweaty crawling underwear and the sweet smell of swass as it permeates my nose like old road kill in a musty household garbage can. I love pulling weeds, pruning trees, mowing the grass, and watering the lawn in guilt as the news continually reminds us of our terrible forever annual drought like condition. I love spiders, mosquitoes, gnats, and all other creeping things that infest us in full force during the summer. I love heat. Need I say more? Some of you may be thinking that I am a pessimistic hater of sorts that is unable to find the beauty of life. Read on….
The dictionary describes the word “groovy” as very good. The word winter and groovy had just as well be synonyms. There need not be an elaborate explanation for the pictures posted with this blog will pretty much sum it up. For those of you not familiar with such machinery, you are looking at an Arctic Cat M8 fully equipped with a clean burning 2 stroke 798 cc displacement liquid cooled twin. It is also noteworthy to mention the 46mm batteryless electronic fuel injection with adjustable power valve technology which helps rapidly spin the 153 x 15 Camoplast Challenger. I could list it’s other features but I only have a couple pages left so I’ll stop there. Some (less educated persons) claim that heaven is home on earth. I argue that heaven is floating through the powder on a powerful yet lightweight 2 stroke snowmobile. It’s the fresh smell of exhaust and the sound of the rapped out motor as you climb out the top of a large mountain peak. It’s the friendships made while digging out stuck snowmobiles and trying to high mark each other on the hill. It’s the constant maintenance, repair, and modification. I was hoping the global climate would evolve to a day when I could enjoy winter year round. I guess I’m screwed due to global warming. Oh well.