I wrote a blog for Ultimate Bet that can be found here talking about my ride across the rainy south, getting me from Panama City Beach on day 52 to Dallas on day 55.

It was nice to spend time with Lars in Dallas.  Lars is an old friend of mine.  Ten years ago he hired me as the “Jr. High Intern” at Bel Air Presbyterian Church to co-lead the Jr. High ministry for an interim period until they found somebody full time.  He got me into whitewater rafting, and has been the closest thing to an adult mentor that I’ve had in my entire adult life and it was really good to see him.

I wish there were more people like Lars in the church.  I’ve felt for many years an attitude completely contrary to the biblical paradigm that I’ve read and understand.  Instead of the church welcoming the broken, forgiving openly, and reserving judgement for our creator, they’ve turned the church into a “hospital that won’t admit bleeding people”.  In Colorado Springs, I was told by a local pastor that was mentoring me that he would not meet with me any longer unless I stopped playing poker.  I was a part time youth pastor at the time and used poker to make it possible for me to hold the position in the church; at $900 a month I couldn’t have done it without poker.  But instead of helping me continue to grow, young in my adult life without a father, there were conditions put on our relationship.

I feel like the church does that often too; they place conditions upon your relationship with Christ, or with the members.  I do miss fellowship, I do miss the ministry, I miss working with kids, but I haven’t been regularly in four years.  I don’t miss going to church.

Maybe as the older and traditional generation moves on and is replaced by this emergent generation things will change.  Maybe people administering a holy organization are just doomed to human flaws.  I dunno.  But thanks Lars for being one of the few that keep me hoping.

I left Dallas under a cover of clouds intending on getting as far as I could before the $1k WCOOP LHE event.  I made it to Vernon, TX, played the WCOOP, had a tough table and never could get anything going.  I busted around 8pm no-coast time, hopped on the bike, and left the Super 8 heading down the street downtown.  I made it in three blocks, found cars at one place only, the steakhouse.  I stopped in, sat at the empty bar, ordered a Shiner Bock, a bacon wrapped filet, green beans, and a side salad.  Tasty, but not nearly as good as the one Lars prepared the night before.  I asked the bartender while chatting where the place to go was, she said Crazy Mike’s, so after paying I headed there.

I walked into a standard dive with a dozen heads in it.  Found a place at the bar, made friends with Kevin and Deborah, and had a decent time.  At one point it was just me sitting at the bar with everybody else outside smoking.  Then around 10:30, the steakhouse staff showed up, three chicks and a dude.  I went and chatted with them a bit, enjoyable crowd for sure.  One of the girls’ purse was realtree camo with rhinestone detailing on the corners and a celtic cross on the front.  Most fabulous purse I’ve ever seen.  Another one was a city girl who ended up here because her parents bought the movie theatre, which has earned her ownership of a house in town but has left her complaining about unintelligent, prejudice country boys.  Another girl was quite loud and entertaining; at one point the group of them were at a comedy club, and the comedians were bad, so she heckled enough to be called out by the emcee.  Apparently she stole the show; pretty impressive imo.  The dude was named Woodie, after his last name Woodward, and had it tattooed on his neck.  He had plenty of piercings too, was a cool dude, and complained about how conservative everybody was.  He appreciated Austin and wanted to “keep it weird.”  As long as Justin West stays there I think that’ll be no problem :).

So, I found a group of friends, and they after one beer were leaving to the Counrty Boll, a bar in the middle of farmland a couple of miles out of town.  They invited me, I hopped in the back seat, and we made it out there around 11:15, in time for one beer before they closed at midnight.  Drunken cowboys are entertaining.  Then we headed back, dropped off one of the girls, I grabbed my bike so I could leave when I wanted to, and we headed to somebody’s house party/porch hangout time.  I met a half dozen or so other dudes, and by the end of the night another ten people had showed up.  All super awesome people, very hospitable, very outgoing and friendly, and I had an excellent time.  My first random house party in 57 days; good times.  I eventually hopped on the bike, got lost on my way back mostly cause I didn’t ask for directions and thought I could figure out the back streets.  I was in the middle of neighborhoods no clue which direction I was going, heard a train whistle, turned around, and headed toward the sound of the train, because my hotel was centrally located near the freight yard.  That brought me downtown and I found my way back.  I was proud:  no directions asked :).

So I’ve done the same thing today, have ended up in Amarillo, TX, busted the WCOOP 2k 8-game event quickly, running poorly from hand 1.  I’m still in the UB $300+20 100k guarantee, 27/50 remain, then will head downtown when done.

Peace and good luck,

Devo

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I left St. Petersberg heading north.  I found a bike shop In Gainesville, FL that I indended on going to for an oil change.  Gavin’s girlfriend Kristy and sister Nikki also lived there; I wasn’t sure if I was going to spend much time there, but I figured having the possibility of somebody joining me for lunch made it a logical stop.

I ended up getting my rear brakes changed and my K&N air filter cleaned too, so I didn’t get back on the road until about 4pm.  Both of them got off at 5pm, and I decided it would be a shame not to visit over two thousand miles from home.  Plus I needed to do laundry bad, upload some PokerVT videos, and was offered a free place to crash.

When I got there they asked what I wanted to do, I was indifferent, and they mentioned this documentary that Nikki needed to go to for class.  Sure, sounds good, and I went there with zero expectations.

What I ended up watching was a documentary called Darius Goes West, about a teenage boy with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy.  It is the leading genetic killer of boys in the world, striking about 1 in 3500 boys worldwide.  It is 100% fatal, and to this date, there is no cure.  It affects all the muscles in the boy’s body, aging them at a significantly more rapid rate, including the heart, until they eventually die usually in their late teens or early twenties.

Darius’ older brother Mario also had DMD, and died when he was 19.  Both were regulars at Camp Promise and got to know many of the young counselors well in their time there.  Before Mario died, he asked one of them to “look after Darius.”

Jerry Lewis was the voice for DMD in my parent’s generation.  Kids of this generation don’t have a clue who he is.  Darius himself, a very talented and charismatic boy, after losing his brother, decided that he wanted to do something to help his brothers, those coming after him.  He knows that he is not going to live long enough to see a cure.  He decided that he wanted to get on MTV’s Pimp My Ride and have them pimp his wheelchair, using the show as a vehicle to reach a generation and make them aware of what DMD is and that we can cure it.

So, in what must have been an incredible back story, 11 boys from this camp, all college aged kids, got together to take Darius west.  They rented an RV and followed with a minivan.  They filmed the entire three week journey, making the movie Darius Goes West.  it was incredible.  I laughed, I cried, I learned, and I was moved.

After finishing the film, with MTV denying their request and idea due to fears of liability concerning modifying a wheelchair, they launched on a year long nationwide tour, going to high schools and universities showing the film.  It’s won over 25 awards, with at least 20 “best documentary” and “audience choice” awards at film festivals around the country.  The back of the DVD, which I proudly purchased, reads as this:

“in this multi-award-winning documentary, fifteen-year-old Darius Weemes, and eleven of his best friends, set off across America with the ultimate goal of getting his wheelchair customized on MTV’s Pimp My Ride.  The result is a rarely seen testament to the explosive idealism of today’s youth, as well as a vivid portrayal of adventure, of brotherhood, and of the character and strength it takes to shed light on an uncertain future.

“Not only does Darius Weems bravely face his own inevitible fate with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy (DMD), but through his unflinching humor and his extraordinary laugh, he sparks a revolution in the lives of everyone who crosses - and then shares - his courageous path.

“Part revolution, part revelation, this film proves to people of all ages how life, even when imperfect, is always worth the ride.”

These kids in the last year have raised over $2m for Charley’s Fund, a non-profit foundation directing money directly into research that they feel has the best chance of finding a cure.  It’s headed by Charley’s dad, father of Charley who has DMD, and doctor/expert in DMD.  Since it’s inception a couple of years ago, they gave money to a tiny firm in Gainesville that has developed a pill that while not a cure is looking like it will significantly increase the length and quality of life for these boys.  Charley himself has been receiving some of the early treatements, has shown significant improvements, and it has shown enough success that a major firm has invested a very large number into advancing research on this pill.

All because a kid had a vision, and some crazy college kids decided to pursue it.

I want to help, and I want you to also.

First, check out DariusGoesWest.com.  There you can watch the entire movie for free, and I strongly recommend that you do that, then “Play it Forward” to other people know.  The vision of this movement is to create awareness in a generation that is hoped to cure DMD, and the current state of research is “like a train headed forward at full speed.”  We’ve figured out the exact spot where the mutation in the chromosome happens, the first domino that falls, and now all we have to do is stop it.

Second, consider donating to research.  I’ve already donated some $ to CharleysFund.org and I hope you do too.  You can text the word “SPIN” to 90999 to donate $5 to ParentProjectMD that will be charged directly to your cell phone bill.  Do it now.

I surely can’t do the research myself, so the best I can do is help advance research and awareness.  I’m going to do this the best that I can.  The evening was the highlight of my trip, fifty-one days in.

Peace and good luck,

Devo

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I woke up Monday morning with a fine little headache and set about exploring the island. I took the bike and headed to the south side, less than 2 miles away, and snapped a pic of the southernmost point and then had breakfast/lunch at the southernmost beach cafe.

From there I headed to Fort Zachary Taylor state park to check out the fort and jump into the ocean.

I then made my way back into town to meet an old man named Don that I had met the night before for happy hour at this little locals’ place called Pepe’s. I wrote a bunch about it at my Ultimate Bet blog here.

I asked Don where the best place to watch the sunset is, and he said Fort Taylor. So I returned there, posted up on the beach, sought out beers but the place was closing shortly so I had to buy multiples. They also wouldn’t let me take it off the deck, so I ordered three, emptied my camelbak, and filled it with beer.

I then met two Romanian couples. Turns out one pair were friends. They were hanging on a table they drug out onto the beach playing backgammon. I made friends, they were neat people, had another couple join them later, and then watched the sunset.

I headed back, changed, parked the bike, and resumed walking north on Duval street, picking up where I left off the night before. I had dinner at a popular place that I can’t remember the name of, got a little tired so started walking some more, and found a little cigar shop across the street. The shopkeeper was named Alon who lived in Vegas for a couple years recently, played the Bellagio limit games frequently, and it’s quite likely that we’ve played together. He’s also friends with David Levy and Eli Elezra. We had a good chat, he gave me another cigar and a lighter, and I continued moseying down the street.

I found myself in a karaoke bar called Two Friends Bar, and it was a blast. Small super friendly crowd. I switched to captain and coke, sung a few songs, and then was met by Eli and Lizzy the Romanians. I walked back with them to Rick’s upstairs, the place that I had pizza at the night before but forgot. We hung for a while, they took off, and I walked downstairs where there was a stage and two dudes perfoming, one singing and the other playing acoustic guitar. By the time I got down there there was a random dude playing the guitar, and the vocalist who looks like the UFC head dude was singing. He finished, turns out he was doing some sort of open mic thing, so I walked up and said, “I’ll do one.” I played Breakfast at Tiffany’s since I was 2 months away from a guitar and my memory was failing me. It went well enough that he said do another one, I couldn’t. I hung there and closed the place, met Ron the lead singer, he finished with an amazing a capella rendition of Bob Marley’s Redemption Song.

We got to chatting and turns out he’s super into poker himself. We hung for a while, went next door to another bar, and I eventually called it quits on an awesome day.

Day 49

It was time to start going. I was supposed to be in Colorado around now, and I was just leaving Key West. It’s been a good trip :). On the way out I shot this awesome pic:

I got back to Key Largo, stopped at a bike shop trying to get an oil change but they wouldn’t finish it til the next afternoon, so I continued along back into the mainland.

The rain gear was off and on several times during the day as I rode through thundershowers. It would be that way all the way across Florida. I stopped at some Indian casino outside Miami on 41, paid way too much for a room, played online, and didn’t win anything.

Day 50

Woke up, crossed Florida, made it to St. Petersberg, checked in at a Holiday Inn, the front desk dude recognized me before ID which was cool, that’s super foreign to me outside of poker. I went deep in both the WCOOP 8-game, taking 48th getting an average stack in blind vs. blind where I 3-bet called with KQ and lost to K9 on the turn. I also took 12th in the UB $1k, very disappointing.

Day 51 was the highlight of my trip thus far, and that’s gonna get it’s own blog. When I have more time to write

Peace and good luck,

Devo

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Day 44 was awesome. I headed south out of Myrtle Beach towards Charleston, SC, planning on “checking it out” there. Turns out I would only be traveling 100 miles that day.

I first got hung up at Fort Moultrie just across the harbor from Charleston. I love forts and history in general so I paid the three bucks and wandered around the place a bit. It was active from the Revolutionary war, seeing it’s first major battle before completion, just palmetto trees and sand. It beat off a british attack. It was lost to the South during the Civil War, and acted in congruence with the air force during WW2 as a radio station and was also used for anti-submarine defense.

Fort Sumnter halfway across the harbor entrance.

Then, riding toward the Charleston historic district I found this:

USS Lexington, active from 1943 after the 1st Lexington (CV-5) was sunk after the Battle of Midway, June 7, 1942, until the early seventies. For sixteen bucks I could climb all over Lady Lex and the submarine sitting next to it. I accept.

I left there, got a room downtown, and this was the view:

I then proceeded to play online, lose my mind (and ass) doing so, fortunately busted soon enough to go out, and had a helluva time hanging out in Charleston. The town is just amazing, very alive, and very old. The history that surrounds you is a bit overwhelming.

Day 45

Sometime around 2:30am while talking with an old friend I decided that it’d be a good idea to go hang out in Marion Square, the grass lawn across the street surrounded by old churches and a museum. I didn’t realize it then, but I realized it when I woke up that the mosquitoes found me especially appetizing. Turns out I react pretty strongly to the Southern variety too as my calves and one knee were so swollen that it was difficult to walk. The bed was amazingly comfortable, possibly the best one ever (definitely better than my bed at home). I stayed in it til 1pm. Finally got going, took 17 south until it ran into the 95, then hopped on that to make up some time. I crossed Georgia quickly, got to Jacksonville, went on a goose chase trying to find an outdoor store to buy a new Thermarest, because (RIP) after 10 years of service she finally went kaput on me. I found the store, he asked how he could help, I said, “I’m looking for a thermarest, 3/4 guidelite.” He laughed. They haven’t made those in five years. Aw sad. I debated getting a patch kit, then I debated using duct tape, but since the hole was tiny and possibly on the seam and according to the dude difficult to find in general, I just bought a new model one. Jury’s still out on if I like it or not.

I made it to St. Augustine Beach and the state park there just after it closed (sunset), followed a car in the locked gate (noticing that there was a pedestrian opening wider than my bike), planning on just taking an open site or renting half a site from somebody, but fortunately for ease and unfortunately for adventure I just caught the check-in lady and rented a site in the mangroves. Pitched the tent, stashed my gear, headed to the Sunset Bar and Grill, nice open air place right across from the ocean, had a few Yuenglings, met a high school guidance counselor named Andrew who was local, and we became friends. Hopped to a couple of different places, really really really dug the town and vibe, and eventually made it back to the campground where I played some 10-20 Stud8 online for a while and made a few bucks.

Day 46

Was a bit disappointing. I was planning on spending some time along the east coast of Florida. Daytona Beach was dumb, way too touristy. Port Orange was cool, I stopped for lunch at this shack that looked like somewhere I needed to stop, called the Whiskey River, met a bunch of salty old bikers and talked bikes with them for a while, had a beer cause they didn’t serve food, left after one for the same reason, headed down the road to a place called First Turn recommended by them, enjoyed a pulled pork sandwich, and continued down highway 1. I caught a gnarly thunderstorm near Cape Canavral which was a bummer cause I wanted to check that out. I then made a decision, 200 miles from Miami, to hit the highway and make some time/bypass the rain.

I didn’t bypass shit. Got on 95 around mm 190, put on rain gear by 160, and kept it on the rest of the day. Rain all through south Miami. I wasn’t sure where I was going to camp, didn’t want to stop north of Miami because of rain plus there really wasn’t any decent place because there were too many people and houses. I was so sick of rain and crowds that I just flew through Miami. I took a peek at a map at a gas station, realized how close I actually was to the keys, and made a beeline for Key Largo. Got there just as the sun was setting and saw enough to be excited to see the real deal here in Key West, state campground was sold out, and got a silly spot in a private campground/rv park/marina/trailer park. Shrug. Pitch the tent, stash the stuff, find food.

I ended up at some place right on the bayside, was awesome. Snook’s or something like that? Bartender was named Sue, had been there 33 years, was a boat captain licensed to helm up to 100 ton boats by the coast guard, did that during the day and ran the bar at night. Was not suffering from “Keys Disease,” and loved life. I also immediately made friends with Mary and her “partner” Kim who was celebrating her 51st birthday. They were fun and Mary had lived in Key Largo for 5 years back in the day, said that “Keys Disease” is very real and basically turns you into a complacent alcoholic. I then met Amanda who was 21 and waiting for her dude roommate to get off work so she could give him a ride back to the other dude’s house that they’re staying at until they can find their own place cause they’re broke. They taught swimming lessons, she was a swimmer in college in Maryland and from Delaware. I asked where the good place to next go was, they said to meet them at Sharkeyz across the street which turned out to be an awesome bar with a ton of Colorado microbrews and live music lead by this dude “Greatful Ted”. Amanda and Tim never showed up and I headed back to the campsite after a couple of beers. Played online, 10-20 Stud8 and 5-10 O8 on UltimateBet, won about $400, and had to quit because it had started to rain on me.

Day 47

I wasn’t sure how today was going to work out. Plan A was to get to the state park about 40 mins out of Key West, play there online and camp for 2 nights, spending the day in Key West monday coming back after watching the sunset. They were full, sent me 5 miles down the road, and while the campground looked pretty sweet on the water (and full), I decided if I’m going to do a private place again I may as well get as close to Key West as possible. On Stock island there are two: Leo’s and Boyd’s. I found Leo’s easily, it was a dump, and eventually found Boyd’s. They wanted $90 for the night for an on the water tent site with electricity, $60 for no electricity off the water. Those rates dropped $10 and $5 for Monday night. There was nobody in the place. Like, 5% full. I asked if I could see them, the tent site on the water had a big “no swimming” sign in front of the small water access point and a row of mangroves down the shoreline and the other sites. The spots on the peninsula were decent, I decided that I wanted spot 124, and returned to the office.

No tent sites on the water with electricity except for the one with no swimming. 124 was an RV spot. I asked how much, she said that she couldn’t put a tent in an RV spot. Never did answer how much, because at that point I was like, “Look, you want way too much for those other sites, the place is empty, I’ll give you $90 a night for 124. “I can’t put a tent in an RV site.” There’s a zillion open spots, nobody is here. “I don’t make the rules.” Can I talk to the owner? Or somebody who does make the rules? Cause money’s going to walk out the door otherwise because I’m not paying that much for those other spots in an abandoned campground. She made some dumb response, and I headed back to the highway.

I decided to go left to Key West rather than right back to one of the other campgrounds. They all looked packed and I decided I was willing to get a room down there. After walking into about half a dozen different lobbies, mostly around Duval St. (the main drag), getting answers, of 179, 139, 159 (including free happy hour), 280 at the Hyatt written on a post-it… why the hell do places that charge way too much for things (jewelry stores and apparently the Hyatt) write their prices down instead of just telling you when you ask? I finally found a place right on the main drag in the middle of everything, you could tell they were dead (as every other place had to be because I didn’t see one single “no vacancy” sign), and the Russian lady behind the desk shrugged, and said 99. I accepted. Unloaded, jumped in the pool, and am now in 5 donkaments online.

I’m gonna stick here til at least Tuesday to make sure I can check things out and avoid traffic tomorrow.

Peace and good luck,

Devo

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So, I played Legends, built the biggest stack ever, and got my heart broken when I had the chip lead at 27 then busted 26th.  Here’s how it happened:

I opened KQo at 3-6k/500, got called by the tighest guy in the tournament, flop J73r, I c-bet, he called, turn a trey, check, check. River a Q, I bet 47,500 into like 100k, he raised to 100k, I folded, Todd Terry thought he had a set of sevens.  Whatever he had it beat me.  Next hand EP opened, younger guy with a little over 25bb’s, I had AQo, 3bet, he tanked and disappointingly shoved, I called, lost a flip to JJ.  Next oribt I open T8dd, called by the button with 12 bigs, Todd Terry in the BB shruggingly calls, flop Q96ddd, sweet, he checks, I bet 27,500 into like 45k, button tank folds, todd makes it 100k we’re 400 deep, and due to Todd’s range and our history together, I have an easy shove.  I do, he had the nuts, and it’s good game me in 26th place, merely because Nick Shulman busted the hand before.

I have no regrets about how things played out, yet I am super bummed that I didn’t go deeper.  That’s poker I guess.

Anyways, since then I returned to Cornelius and played a decent amount of online poker since.  I had a frustrating Sunday, three or four cashes, but I built a bunch of stacks that never went anywhere.  The fun one was when I opened ATo, got called in two spots (in the ftp 750k), flop TTx, lose to 99 on a 9 turn and river.

I was gonna leave Monday, but it was raining.  Then I was gonna leave Tuesday, but I got called in to play in a PokerVT special game, Daniel, Jon Ettinger, Jon Turner, Jason Sommerville, Josh Norris, and me.  Jason was the best in the game, completely owned Jon Ettinger with J9 on a 944dd flop where he weak lead $10 into $24 vs. three of us, check raised Jon on the brick turn, and value bet the Q river, getting paid off by 88.  It was a beautiful play of I know that he knows that I know that he knows that I can’t check raise a weak nine so therefore he polarized his range to 4x, 99, the middling set, or air, and since those hands are hard to make Jon paid him off.  Very well played.

It was interesting making a video of that game.  They’re all super good, so my approach was teaching about how to play in really tough games.  The basic jist of what I was doing was capitalizing on their perceived range of me.  Since everybody was playing so aggro, with many three bets going in pre-flop, if they think my range is loose like it usually is during donkaments, they’re going to play accordingly, but if my actual range is tighter than their perceived range of me, then I will profit in the long run.  In one hand I opened AA, Daniel 3-bet, and I 4 bet.  Now, they (and Daniel) obviously thought that my 4 betting range would be wider than AA, KK, and AK, but that’s honestly how tight it was.  Therefore, when Daniel 3 bet me with QQ, and I 4 bet, and he shoved, he actually was shoving into a range of AA, KK, and AK.  He’s 40% vs. that range, but clearly he assumed that my range was wider than what it actually was.

Turns out he flopped a queen and that was the only really big pot I played.  Shrug.  The 2nd biggest I played was with JThh v. Jason, flop KJT, I check called the flop, turn an ace check, check, and on the brick river I check button-mashed call, which may have been a mistake because he overbet the pot (75 into 50), basically owning me, but since I was assuming that he would have bet a Q on the turn I probably would have called anyways and ended up losing to his AQ.

So, turns out that getting a fire going here in South Carolina is more difficult than starting one in Colorado after a fresh snowfall due to humidity.  I think I finally got it going, but it’s been a pita.  I left Cornelius today, rode across North and South Carolina to get here, found the Myrtle Beach State Park, rented a site, pitched a tent in the rain, said, “Hey mate!” to a decent sized toad that apparently wanted to snuggle with me in my tent, diverted him back into the woods, bought some firewood, stuffed it as well as my bags in my dual vented vestibules, and headed off to find food and beer.

Bar one called “Spencerz” was dead but interesting, I had some food and a beer, got advice on the next place to go, and headed another ten minutes down the road to the Beaver Bar.  Had a beer there, it sucked, and returned north on 17 to bar hop my way back.  Next place was Murphy’s Bar South, with Karaoke on Wednesday nights, and it was awesome.

Something happened that had never happend before.  First, the KJ asked where I was from, I said Southern Californa live in Vegas, she said she grew up in Glendora/Azusa, and well I did too.  I said that I went to Foothill Christian, she said she went to Sandberg, and that’s where I played Little League all the way through 3rd grade.  Small world.

The world got smaller when I returned to the bar after putting in a request, Under the Bridge, when I got chatting with this one dude and I talked about how funny it was that the KJ and I were from the same neighborhood.  He asked where I was from, I told him, then he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Bryan, you?”

“What’s your last name?”

“Devonshire?  Why?”

He knew me.  Shook my hand this summer during the craziness of the WSOP.  Brett Mehalic, lawyer living in Myrtle Beach, and I walked into his bar.  Pretty hilarious, and made me pretty stoked.  We chatted for a while, had a couple of beers together, and I thoroughly enjoyed the bar.  Thanks Brett, Joe C behind the bar, and everybody else there for an amazing time.  If you’re ever in Myrtle Beach, head south past Surfside just before the strand to Murphy’s Bar South on the east side of 17, say hi to them for me.

So, the plan from here it to follow the coast all the way to Dallas.  I want to head down the Atlantic coast to Key West, back along the Gulf Coast through Tampa and the South all the way to Dallas, up to Colorado, and home to Vegas.  I’m going to be really taking my time stopping most days by 4:20pm to play in the later WCOOP and the nightly events, as I’m planning on making live videos for PokerVT covering the fundamentals of every different game type that I’m decent at.

It felt great to be back in the saddle today, however I had my closest call of the trip today less than 15 miles out of Cornelius.  Headed East on 73 toward Concord, with my mind on other things, following a reasonable distance behind the car in front of me, it abrutly swerved and drove into the right hand ditch.  I looked up, saw the car in front of that car at a dead stop less than 100 feet in front of me.  I locked up both brakes and banked left into oncoming traffic.  I saw that it was immediately clear when I banked and was relived while in a skidding slide, counter steering to the right but still going down, that I had about seven seconds before I was going to to be hit by oncoming traffic.  This was good news only because I honestly thought I was going down and thought that seven seconds would be enough time for the oncoming to see me and stop before running my ass over.  I was gradually falling, not sure if I was going to recover or not when my left side floorboard caught the tarmac with a violent jolt, and fortunately 23 years of riding experience paid off since I was already counter-steering and it popped me back upright.  I zipped back into the stopped traffic, stopped between two cars, and shook my head.  Close.  Very, very, close.

Anyways, should be back to a frequent blogging schedule since I’ll be online a lot and am back to the travels, cheers y’all and talk at ya soon.  If you live anywhere between here and there and have a couch for rent, I’d be glad to take it.  Please lemme know.

Peace and good luck,

Devo

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