bitter taste of missed opportunity

Ah, the detachment of leaving town and spending a weekend with strangers in the mountains. You should all be as proud as I am of my little hybrid. She made it all the way up into the sierras during a massive snowstorm. I'll admit it was a bit dicey for a while, but the chains held traction and we made it through the dark night.

And we're back, in a rainstorm. Damp students, in a damp room. It's as if nature was our big brother and when we asked it nicely to stop raining, it just hit us again in the shoulder and kept on raining.

Nature is a jerk.



I've updated the songs on the right. I think you'll like the Norfolk and Western one. I can't get over the restraint that the vocalist holds in his voice. The guitar keeps trying to leap out from under it's controls, break the reigns and play loudly. But by not releasing a wall of sound, we are forced to enjoy the slight traces of angst that bleeds out of the plucked strings.

It was a long car ride, and I didn't have much to think about.

I'll try and get some pictures of the mountain up soon. It was one of the best days in the snow that I've had in a long time. About 2 feet of fresh powder, and no crowds at all. There was a cornice at the top of the mountain that was a quick 5-10 foot drop into a big open field of fresh snow. I must have hit it a dozen times. I was still getting fresh snow on the last runs of the day.