From Loans To Death Socks.

This week has been an emotional rollercoaster. A couple really tough things and some amazing times. All in all, life's lines are some of the most exciting.

Apparently the government trusts me with their money. I wish they would have trusted me a bit more.


The sticker team has its own private park. Matt and I got the invite.




A true ripper in the Cranbrook skate scene passed away early Saturday morning. We had a session for him. You will be remembered Brant.


Dan's sweet slipper.


Sunday was Skate Montana day. Grindline put up a new park in Whitefish, so it was time to go. The bowls are way gnarlier than the pictures make them out to be. Trust me.

Border Stress. No matter who you are and how innocent you are, the border is always stressful.


It seems like everywhere in the states is a casino/bar. Maybe just at the border.





Whitefish.





Shredfish.








Lunch time.


"We should be doing peyote, not skateboarding."
-Mark Bulford, in refrence to the desert like climate of the Polson park.

No one was feeling really shreddy at this point because of the ridiculous temperatures. A shame because the park ripped, even though we didn't.

Matt also refered to the locals as Gummo. This got me thinking, and I realized the locals at every park I have ever been to are very Gummo.



Matt is an all terrain machine, don't let him lie to you. Here he takes a much deserved road soda.


It was so hot I almost lost the edge.



Scenery.



Roadside stop.




Trucks are easier road trip vehicles.


Death sock.


These two photos scream "roadtrip" to me.



"I always wanna punch people wearing Von Dutch"
-Fannypack


Dinner time. Me, Dexter, Shayne, Joey, Dan, Matt and Mark, in order. I didn't get a picture, but Colten ate a Payday.








Thank you all for your part in the highs and lows of this week. You know who you are. I feel blessed for having each one of you playing rolls in my development.

Sorry for the overly emo post.

Love Nathan