Two people who simply couldn’t hold onto things that needed holding onto yesterday: myself and Zac Costa.
Me: I was filming Ivers doing a line out on TI from my bike; about halfway through the line, I have to start pedaling to catch up with him. On the fourth or fifth go around, the driver on my freecoaster locked up as I started to pedal, causing me to buckle, take the bars to the gut, drop my camera, and hit the ground on my hands and knees. Results: A bloody knee, a bent sunshade on my fisheye, and some kind of damage or misalignment to the focus mechanism on my camera, which is going to cost me more money to fix than I’d like to spend.
Zac: On the way back to San Jose, we stopped at Dirt’s place. Getting ready to leave, I unlocked my car and tossed the keys to Zac, who proceeded to fumble them right into a gutter that was at least six feet deep, with at least two feet of water in it. This resulted in Zac and Dirt trying to fish the keys out of the filthiest water I’ve ever seen – amongst other things, there was human shit and a used Trojan Magnum in there. On top of this, my bike and Honesto’s are locked to the rack on the car, so we had to take the rack off and then cut the lock to get them off. Thankfully, Tony Campos gave me a ride out to Daly City, where I was able to get a spare key.
The moral of the story is this: Hold on to your shit tight.