Logan? Pffffft!!!

Last words I ever heard Logan say to me were, "Don't worry about it! Follow me!" And then took off down the 7+ rated Coyote Cyn. trail doing about 15 mph, bouncing and slamming metal to rock--in a borrowed Xterra.

Between the way I saw him drive (twice--once in the borrowed Xterra, after getting his FUCKING VOLVO stuck on the trail), and the way he acted with the club afterwards, I knew to write that bag of nuts off--I have little patience for crazy hot chicks, and much much less for crazy old hairy dudes.

If it means anything at all (who am I kidding, I know it doesn't!), this exact type of bullshit is what threw me off, not from SCCX, but from the whole group 'wheeling thing altogether. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time with SCCX on the runs I attended, with little exception, but I began to hate the idea that every move was being nitpicked by assholes with nothing better to do than point fingers and begrudge.

I hated the idea that my jokes could be misconstrued, that sensitivities could be stepped on, that people would misunderstand things, or blow them out of proportion, and that these words and actions would be recorded, re-examined and used as ammunition to point out my transgressions or lack of morals. Hell, I've got a wife for that shit!

I got my truck to escape the legions of jerkoffs that plague my stultified urban life, not to bring them 'wheeling with me.

Thanks to certain members of SCCX, I have learned a valuable lesson...like rattlesnakes and the brown acid, 4x4 clubs are best avoided.