For some, chanting mantras brings their mind stillness. Being in the present, not troubling yourself with the future or the past. What is done is done and predicting the future is futile, yet the mind feebly churns over the details like it has relevance. The present, that fleeting moment where your mind is still and content with the task at hand, that my friends is what life is about.
Let’s not sugar coat it, chanting mantras is pretty bloody dull. I’m not alone in having a chuckle at the happy clappers in church getting lost in the evangelical trancendance of hymns. Hey no judgement here it’s just not for me. It’s all a means to an end, being lost in the present. The now. No more no less.
When you are on full boost exiting a corner in a high performance car, launching a motor bike, playing guitar on stage, sparring in boxing, painting or being moved by a musician…you are not thinking about when the gas bill is due. You are transfixed by the concentration of the enjoyable task at hand.
I am fortunate to surround myself with passionate people that grab life by the horns in a variety of ways. Sure, we all get caught in the mundane. Some would argue that physical pursuits are fleeting and temporary, and the consciousness itself should be nurtured. Yeah maybe, but I am no Yogi. I’m sure a full speed, just hanging on grind feels as good as it can get. That is my meditation.
Forgive me, I digress. It was time to escape the task of earning a living and hit the road. This should serve to light a fire under the arse of my skateboarding brethren to come along next time, we could have hit more spots with more crew. We had quality company and some Kms to slay, so we packed our gear and hit the road.
We had a burger and a leg stretch at the border. These drains looked promising, but no dice. Sick graff though
Duncan hit the whippy bits with a front rock
We then arrived at Wagga Wagga. Great chill park
Duncan got to work and embraced his inner Ed T
Duncan snapped a Front Feebs of me
Cunnaz manhandled the jersey
Old mate shut down the session with a thong clad banger. Huck and exhale!
We stocked the chilly bins and headed for the campsite. A bath in the river and a cook up. Light a fire and tell tall yarns
We awoke in a serene environment…I took old man photographs.
Could have done without the brutal calls of these dicks. Shit birds!
After some internet reconnaissance we headed for Young, which wasn’t even on our radar. Some single lane road fangin’ was had, we even got a little air at one point!
Filled up for gas and went here, it was pretty crap
And then found Young. Behold!
Duncan snagged a Howard grind on a cool obstacle
Feebs in the ripper of a bowl.
I gave the pocket a tickle. Thanks Duncan for the photo
The local solitary skater was stoked to have some crew in town!
And of course, old mate Cunnaz slayed the joint.
Grind up to fiddy, this obstacle was no joke!
Fangin’ over the hip
…and then on to my favourite bowl in NSW. Millthorpe. A tucked away great little food and wine town of about 800 people. The pump track is a hoot, and the bowl just works
Duncan shot these before I had too many beers. The cradle is tight with a waterfall, so fun.
Duncan got a couple of publishable photos of Cunnaz here, I missed the action and was happy to heckle
Back 180 up the step up
And Duncan snagged a blunt slide behind the cradle
And then it was time to cook up and set up camp for the evening, right next to the bowl. The lightning stayed on the horizon and all was good in the world.