Every Dog has it's day

It seemed to happen so often I can't now exactly remember the details, but the memory is basic. I'm at work, toiling away, in another meeting, grinding out an existence. The phone rings, and it's Pablo and the Mule. They are drunk with a cocktail of exhaustion, satiation and red bull. The signal is broken up because they are just now on the saddle above brown sugar, overlooking the Reservoir.... "Greatest..... huge browns..... man o man.... super slow motion..... monster head rising...... just tore down to the backing..... best day.... huge browns.... best day..... man o man..... just sucked in the fly..... saw this behemoth... behind rock....." Eventually the signal would drop and I'd feign throwing my phone through a window.

There is balance in the universe as Pablo and the Rook (need to change his nick to "facilitating SOB") got blanked for 6 hours on BC and two days later, on a lark really, I head out to JFork for a quick jaunt and bust chops. You know it's good when your royal wulf's ears are hanging off his butt from the mauling.

I won't rub it in, cause heaven knows I've spent many hours with tired legs stumbling aimlessly over rocks and aching shoulder with nothing to show, and I'll have another of those soon enough, but for now, the sun is shining on this dogs elk hair behind!