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| Photo: Kim Kurian |
Friday afternoon, 5:45 p.m. Time to break into that gear closet masquerading as a garage, reach for some Marmot, Cannondale, Necky, MSR, Petzl, Arc'teryx, and Nalgene, and head on out. It is at this key juncture, this cranking-the-ignition moment, rich with the anticipation of adrenaline and pure joy, that we must pause and give thanks for that which we take most for granted: the racks and roof boxes that make it possible. These SILENT SENTRIES swallow and secure our prized gear, DUTIFULLY HAULING IT TO THE PUT-IN OR TRAILHEAD. And once JAMMED WITH BIKES AND KAYAKS, these nifty rods, tubes, and modules also broadcast a message to Joe and Jane Commuter over in the next lane: "Yeah, I'm going to get myself covered in dirt, scabbed up, sunburned all to hell—and you aren't!" |
