Friday morning I departed Portland, Oregon for a sweet solo road trip. My destination? Breckenridge Colorado.  As I rolled out of town I decided that I’d play a game of counting on my journey. Here are the results,

miles driven- one thousand two hundred thirty five

average miles per gallon- eleven and a half

skateparks shredded by me - zero (rain) booooooo

sent text messages- five

ounces of water drank- one hundred and eight

ounces of coffee drank- twenty four

states- four

episodes of the office watched- eighteen

v.i.p. bracelets found in the dirt- one

road kill - seven

cops- twenty eight

waterfalls- five

lightening bolts- thirteen

construction zones- twenty four

There is snow in Portland.  It’s freezing, I love it.  It doesn’t feel like Oregon at all, more like a city in Utah or Colorado.  The streets are empty, the businesses are closed, I mean it snowed 3 inches, it’s pretty serious.

I hung out with Johnnie Paxson and some friends from Sandy, Oregon.  They had been scoping a bunch of handrails over the past couple of years.  They are excited that there is finally enough snow to hit them.