SWEET JUMPS: The thrill of victory...and the agony of defeat!

Last year on the playa, as the dawn's early light crept diligently over the mountain tops, a rag tag group of Vikings, armed only with tattered wits and bad ideas, gave birth to a raucous past time dubbed Sweet Jumps. Though I whole-heartedly embraced the idea, I never quite put myself on the roster for a jump. I thought it best to leave that to younger, better-padded Vikings than I, and there are many.

Well, this weekend at Resonate, actually the morning after Resonate, I was fueled by the slight bitterness that follows divine revelry and inspired by my hairy brethren to get on that go-ped and give myself over to a little sweet jump. In classic Viking fashion I descended the stairs of our resting place in Chicago in a pair of green boxers, my newly acquired pink of Montreal t-shirt, and thanks to Bucky, a pair of cowboy boots. Still covered in make-up from the night before, I set off on fates path and embraced my own density. Yes, density.

A small crowd had gathered from the earlier round of jumps and they appeared to be thrilled with the opportunity to witness another round. Cheered on by my brothers and sisters and the uninitiated alike I careened through the city street to make my approach. Now, last year I tooled around on a few go-peds so I picked that right up, but preparing for the jump was new. I guess, in hind sight there really are no preparations, you simply aim at the ramp and loosen your body enough to absorb the shock of the landing, yet keep it firm enough to hit all the angles right and stay on the damned thing.

The first jump was smooth. The ramp wasn't that high and I didn't crank up the speed too much as I wanted to feel it out in round one. I caught a little air and landed while my ears reveled in the cheers and applause of the crowd. OK, so that went well. I got my head around the physics of the sweet jump, or so I thought. The Viking Gods had a different fate in mind.
As I found out later, while I was making my approach to the ramp for a second time, Bucky decided to raise the ramp by a few cinder blocks. This was met by protest from a few but the response from Bucky was that I needed this and, in hindsight, I know exactly what he meant. Of course, I didn’t know this at the time and the fact that the ramp had been set at a higher incline didn’t dawn on me until it was far too late.


The knowledge hit me with the abandon of an Abu Ghraib detainee who thought he was still free. Of course, I’m not and I walked away. Scathed, but I walked away and now I’m plotting my training for sweet jumps 2007!


Thanks and love to all the Vikings and especially Robocop, who has nursed me back to a form of health unknown before!
Jump Sweetly my Brothers and Sisters!
More fodder for the beast in 2007!

Many thanks to the obscurity that is PiZZa pArTay for the divine images!!! God, what a wreck!