Wednesday, January 16, 2013

East to West Trip Stop 3: Minnesota

Twenty five hours of hazy and cramped van life passed between the Green Mountains and Minnesota. Some slept while others chose to keep their eyes tuned in on the road. Packs of smokes vanished, playlists exhausted themselves, and the white and yellow lines dotted the passed mileage, tracing our way to the flats of Minnetonka and, specifically, the Murder Haven. Tommy's parents helped soothe our sanity with vegetables, cold beers, a hot tub, and highly amiable sleeping arrangements (a.k.a. another bitchin' basement). They woke us up with hot coffee and bottomless plates of bacon, quiche, scones, cereal and granola. We considered this a fine break from gas station delicacies and Denny's decrepit shit dishes. With full bellies and blue skies, we hit the road to Mont du Lac and met up with some more Strangers and some new Strangers. Du Lac is home to the fastest rope tow in the Midwest, clocking in at nearly thirty miles an hour, so, with the majority of our crew being guppies to the rope tow scene, we were in for a treat. Arm's were nearly ripped off, hands callused, quad's burnt up, and Robbie almost cut his head off AND almost cut our head's off; the place is the most exciting and enticing resort ever. Seriously, it's a playground for snowboarding. We hot lapped well past dark and then made our way to Duluth to stay with Jake Braseth in the royal Castle Danger. If du Lac is the snowboarder's playground, Castle Danger is the late-teen/early-twenty's playground. We crashed there for what seemed like weeks, with the electronic drum kit constantly pounding over delirious freestyles, footage being scoured over and over again, the tattoo gun purring from the next room, and the Fantastic Mr. Fox looping infinitely. We mobbed spots with a fleet of fifteen kids, got shots, found parties with bad bitches and lax bro's, smashed glass, dropped fireworks, wrecked home appliances, demolished morals, and somehow survived. This video is proof. Minnesota was a trip all in itself. We made new friends, fans, groupies, and enemies. We got shots and we got broke off. We retrieved our minds and then lost them again. We bared the cold and then had to leave when it got warm and then cold again and everything was bulletproof. Seriously. The whole state of Minnesota became a flat block of ice. Two busted knees, a broken collarbone, a split shin, and fifteen bruised beings; we packed up and continued Westward to the Rockies. 'Til then, Stay Strange. -Keeeeeks

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