Baghdad

You don’t know what it’s like till its gone.

Famous last words?

We all hung out at what was supposed to be a dirt jump contest at a local bike shop. I say “supposed to be” because with the rain that we received this past week and what seemed to be an overabundance of disorganization they were merely piles of clay baking in the sun.
The scene resembled wartime photographs of Baghdad, bombed out and depleted. The idea was a great one: get a bunch of kids out and hold a dirt jump contest where the winners received a cash prize and some swag. Just poor execution. Rest assured that with some more elbow grease you could hold a proper competition as well as have a great place to ride and hangout. I was a little peeved when I showed up and saw the dirt in such disarray but as time went by, my thoughts changed. We were sitting there talking and laughing, remembering funny crashes and drunken stupors. That’s when it hit me. Despite everything else we were still having a good time. We were making the most of the situation with out any real effort. It was good to laugh and smile.