Broke As Fuck

Waking up in different places has never been that perplexing for me.
Im fortunate enough to know when to stop drinking so I don't usually endure the conditions that would make this result a habit..
That being said, the domicile into which I awoke yesterday and the day before was an experience that I never thought I would have. which made it a little surprising...

Ive slept places before where there is something inspiring to ride within 10 feet of my horizontal socks.
Ive woke up, stretched and dropped in.

Ive had night sessions that were lit by a cord a yard long to the house.

All of these experiences have occurred in places I have met, then begun to understand.
Places that before the first visit were a cloudy painting in my imagination created by some vague description by a similarly wheeled individual.

Beringer's house in Utah is not somewhere I got shady directions to from a Burger King napkin. Beringer's house is not somewhere most of the BMX community is unaware of.

Beringer's house is not undocumented in its current state.

The pea-soup-green ramps were mapped out in my head years before I stepped onto the deck and I'm sure its the same for a whole lotta people.
So you can imagine waking up in that house was, for lack of a better word, a trip...

One could draw parallels between the attraction the creations in that backyard have for us, and what Graceland holds for Elvis lovers, but that's be a bit too much, don't you think? Christ, anything can be taken for granted..

All hype aside we are all humans, sometimes gifted and lauded folks forget that they aren't actually the most important thing in the world..
Not the case with the gracious hosts we were to have the pleasure of crashing with.
There was never a feeling of burden or discontent to worry about and we were treated much the same as anybody who just walked off the latest roadfools..
In a situation that in another place would be all attitudes and quick head nods of acknowledgment we received honest introductions and solid handshake name exchanges from everybody there...

Jeff is one of the folks who resides at this acre of high desert landscape among dry water slides and dead ducks.
He's been all over this country of ours and has an outlook that would appease the toughest of any moral compass. He has worked anywhere you have and finally decided to chase the dream of chasing the dream and currently works at the famed 50-50 Bike shop in Layton Utah. You can find him there most days of the week, watching you sweat as he wrenches in air conditioned goodness, Talkin about whatever the hell comes up with 50-50 owner Eddie (who's mom is the coolest lady in the world)..
Oh yeah, and Jeff kills it.

Our time there was too short but we made use of it despite intensely hot weather. Matt was even kind enough to take us up to the top of this mountain where Jase slid down a sketchy ass snow field for a Forty.
Views were had and the dro was put in the wind. On our way out of town Cody was on a mission to do some crazy rail. He's always doin that shit..

We got to the parking lot and were unloading just as a cop rolled up. After a brief exchange he is quoted to have said "you can ride the parking lot, if you ride the stairs theres some guys that'll take your bike, I'm gonna go to the bathroom" and off he went. Let the good times roll..
After a couple slams Cody got all the way down clean, only to have technical difficulty's with the video camera.. never one to miss a clip that crazy bastard went back up and tried again, gettin most of the way till being bucked to flat.. A little blood and skin left in utah, no biggie for him...
We grabbed some all you can eat pizza that was a disappointment, stopped by 50-50 to chill for a sec and we were off to Denver Colorado..

HUGE Thanks again to Loyal To Your Soil, Matt, Jeff and Eddie... you muthafuckas are alllll riiiiight....

IBAF '08