McKay Hollow Madness 2014-Pain in my Butt

I am going to describe someone to you and I want you to tell me the first thing that comes to

your mind. Imagine an attractive young lady, $110 street shoes, $80 running pants, $65 base-layer, $65 running jacket, iPhone and key fob while running a grueling trail race....You got it! Street Runner with no clue what she is about to experience. Benj, Erin and I start the race and we are a little concerned cause Dink Taylor is about 20' in front of us. We look to our left and the young lady described above is "texting" while running and then drops her key fob. I look at Benj and say, "4hrs"!

Albino Polynesian Chic (Jay Crosby)

For the first time in 4yrs McKay Hollow Madness was relatively dry. Temperature was just about right and Ia am seeded 6th? I thought it was a joke, however I found out that out of the returning runners, I was actually the 6th fastest on record from last year. I know what you are thinking and you can kiss my butt.

So after running a 50 miler and a marathon, my plan was to treat this as a training run, however, that did not happen. When Blake said "Go", and I had a successful healthy poo, the racer kicked in. The race begins on the road to thin out the pack and shortly enters the single track before the descent. Down Sinks, then quickly up to Panther Knob. Often times newbies make the mistake of running the Panther Knob and Sinks climb only to suck the rest of the way. Climbing around Stone Cuts is always a highlight in this race however, I am always petrified of seeing a rattlesnake or a naked homeless guy in there. Around mile 5 we caught the skinny white guy wearing Jorts (bluejean shorts), who has the body of a 13 year old albino Polynesian girl. Thats what you get for calling out the HotWingRunner! We speed hike Warpath, fill my hat with water and push to the McKay Hollow descent.

Erin Looney
Photo by Gelmis

There are two ways to run down McKay hollow...fast or slow. If you run fast you better have a good dental plan. We are balls to the wall all the way down. We finally reach the Natural Well climb and continue the power walk on the climbs. Now at this point Erin is the lead Chic...we look down and here comes #2 pressing hard. She passes and Erin resists pushing her off the waterfall. Benj and I know Erin's potential and we urged her to push but she didn't. Once we crested the Natural Well (192' sinkhole) I told Erin to at least catch her and let her push the pace. So she left us. 

Me and Benj

As Benj and I weave around Arrowhead to the aid station and back to the trail leading to the well we see in the distance that Erin had overtaken the lady and was gaining a sizable lead. We take Arrowhead #2 and run as hard as we can to ensure that no one would catch us all the while pontificating about Thunder Rock 100. Benj eventually leaves me on the rugged and rooty lower Natural Well descent. So as in many races I find myself all alone and wondering who I would eat if left in a survival situation. Would a Hispanic guy taste like Mexican? 

I finally reach the famous Death Trail for a 1/2 mile climb to the finish. Just before the sharp cutback where you see the waterfall I see the #2 female. It's obvious she doesn't know the course and doesn't realize the finish is around 1/4 of a mile, so I surge. Just as soon as I passed her it happened! I popped a hemorrhoid out my brown eye. Wanna see the pic?

Scott and Chelsea

James and Pocahontas

Angie

Oak Barrel 2014- Rachel and Misty

Photo by Gelmis

Oak Barrel 2014 played out much different than 2013. Last year, everyone knows I had to use my
McKay Hollow shirt to clean brownie puddin off my bum. In case you were wondering, I went back after this years race to see if I could find the shirt....no luck. The goal for this year was that I had no goal. I wanted to do good, however, in prepping for the 100 miler, it was not important to crush this race.

I decided to start between a 7:45 and 8:00 minute pace to the hill and just hope for the best going up. On our way to Whiskey Hill our nostrils are treated with the refreshing scent of fresh poo from a family of inbred cows. I reach Whiskey Hill, which according to my Suunto Ambiet (the best GPS watch on the market) is around 2 miles long. As usual I mouthed off to a couple people trying to provoke them to race me up. One chic tried but I put the smack down on her. Actually I was chasing Rachel Eidson. For the first time ever I ran the entire hill. 

I peak the top around mile 5 and understand that for the next 3.4 miles I will be on rolling hills. I despise rolling hills. Not only rolling hill, the wind was very strong. In the distance I could see Rachel and a lady that looked like Christy. I knew it wasn't Christy cause this lady was tone, tan and fast. So I used them as bait to just push the downhill sections and try to maintain on the uphill. So up until this point my mile splits were as seen on the chart. I slowly began to gain ground on Rachel and Misty (the girl that looked like Christy). Around mile 8.4 the long down hill begins. So I lean forward staying perpendicular to the ground and begin to push. The distance between Rachel and Misty began to shorten. I was so determined, however, worried because I knew what happened at mile 11 last year. I was having a great race and was praying that my stomach would hold out. All of a sudden around mile 9 things began to change. I was gaining on Rachel and Misty and had been passing all the people who started out way to fast, just they way I had done so many times before. Around mile 10 I was shocked. Misty was Christy. Listen, unlike times past, I am not bragging here. You see Christy had been sick all week and she was running strong. If she had been healthy I never would have caught her, however, she was not the target...It was that Pure Barr Speedster Rachel who smoked me last year. I could feel the adrenaline pumping and I calculated that I could PR even while on this course. I finally catch Rachel and we run together just as two years ago. We come to mile 11 and reminisce while I point to the location I pulled off last year to change my oil. We start reeling people in as our pace quickens. Around the corner we are on the main road to the finish.  I honestly have never felt so amazing at the end of a half marathon as I did that day. So I went all out. 

When I got home I was shocked at what I saw for miles 9-13.1. I had dropped the last full mile to a 6:36. I crossed the finish line and heard the announcer say..."This is Cary Long from Huntsville. He wants to change his name to Who Farted". WHAT THE CRAP? Who told him to say that? I know during registration you can tell them something about yourself, however, I don't remember putting anything.

Anyway, Rachel came in a couple of seconds after me and Christy was a few more after that. If you don't have anyone to challenge you...find someone. You win some and you lose some, however, iron sharpens iron. My friends are iron! 

Photo by Gelmis

I had another surprise as we went to look at the results posted. I had placed first in my age group out of 87 runners. Not only that, I was 37th out of 1177 finishers. To date, that is my highest finish of the ratio of place to runners. Very happy day. Our Huntsville community celebrated many 1st, 2nd and 3rd place finishes resulting in a whole bunch of wood. Rachel finished 1st in her age group and Christy finished 3rd in the old ladies group (masters), which was weird they did that cause she would have been 1st in her age group. 

The picnic was awesome. I love our running community. Was so glad my wife and son came out. Lastly, I got to meet the White Whipers wife, Mrs, Christy Deaton.

Photo by Gelmis

Photos by Gelmis

Photos by Gelmis

Photo by Gelmis

Savage Gulf 2014-Running with Rick

Bill Knapp-Photo by Holland

Savage Gulf 2014 proved to continue to be the hardest trail marathon that I have ever ran or heard of...at least in the southeast. A large group of Chattahooligans, Nashsuckians and Huntshonkers gathered together the night before for a campout and campfire feast consisting of salmon, bacon wrapped deer nuts, hamburgers, pasta salad, California rolls, avocado's, hummus, corn, veggies and dutch oven cobbler. 

For the first time in ultrarunning history, two authentic Germans showed up. I introduced Martin Schneekloth to Olaf Talksthesmack (Wasternack), they immediately greeted each other in their native language consisting of a lot of spitting and angry faces. I think they were complementing each others European man-bags or something. Anyway, a wonderful meal followed by a full night of rest to which I equate my sleep as that of a baby coming down the birth canal. First of all Martin was freakin out afraid I was gonna fart in our tent. So I held it all night long just for him. First thing that morning, he rips one. I then commenced the "Shock and Awe" campaign. 

The Waterfall Section-Photo by David Holliday

Me and Trey Campbell-Photo by Dreama

We hit the starting line where Yogi Bear (coolest park ranger ever) gives us the rules in the manner of a Prison warden telling us what to expect during a brown eye cavity search for shanks. Davy Crocket fires the gun and we are off. The goal was to control my running and treat this nothing more than a training run for Thunder Rock. After a few miles we descend down Stone Door on a rock garden trek to the bottom of the gulf. Across some swinging bridges, dry river beds and single track we set out to prove our toughness. I'm running with the White Whiper (Jeff Deaton), Rick Callaway, Tony Scott, David Holliday and Melinda Honkus until the waterfall. This section of the course is in my opinion what makes this race. You come around a corner and it's like you are in a tropical environment, with a nice waterfall that then takes you under a huge rock shelf.

The Rock Shelf-Photo by David Holliday

Shortly after I find its just Rick Callaway and myself at the second aid station on the opposite ridge trek. This trek reminds me of the ridge running at Stump Jump. Being more runnable allows for more casual conversations. This is the point where this race report changes directions, hence the title, "Running with Rick". Running with Rick was not what I expected it to be. A wide range of subjects ensued, however, there was one that stuck with me the most. I'm not sure if he realized it or not, but I got the impression he could see through my "crap", all the way to the kid who lives in an adult body who fears rejection and needs affirmation. Some things during that run he said to me that have echoed in my heart and mind ever since. Again, I'm not sure he even realizes it. I do know that running with Rick has changed my perception of myself. Ultrarunning brings out the sensitive side of me.

Rick-Photo by Sarah Coleman

Upon leaving the ridge there is a long rocky descent back to the bottom of the gulf. The beauty of this section can only be appreciated first hand. Back across more swinging bridges, we make it to the mile 20 water stop for a last refill before the huge climb. Imagine a single track, rolling, boulder section for 3 miles with a rhoid popping climb at the end. Because I had conserved early I has able to tackle this section like never before. As I left the water station I saw Rick turn back for more water, and he never caught back up with me. I decided to do my best to catch Jeff and Martin. During the big climb I caught Dave Thurman and I could see the life suck out of him and transfer into me as I passed him. I like you Dave, but thats what you did to me at Mountain Mist. The last 3 miles are pretty much flat. However, what seems like am 8 minute pace was actually around a 10:40. Nevertheless I PR'd around 10 minutes and felt great at the end.

As with every race I gained some new FB friends. I got a friend request from the 1st place overall male and the 3rd place female along with the Vietnamese Queen with a Polish last name. (Who I wrote about in the Yeti Snakebite report). 

I'm glad Olaf didn't break the 4 hour barrier this year. We had a bet that if he did, I would shave my nipples. He even brought a razor.

Photo by James Suh

Photo by Sarah Coleman

Photo by Sarah Coleman

2014 Mt Cheaha- Crossfit Cletus and the Best 50K Experience Ever

Ever wondered what it would be like to finish a 50k feeling great? Before this race I have completed 18 50k's not to mention marathons, stage races, 35 miler and 50 miler. All 18 ended the same way. Me sucking that last 6-10 miles. Why? Several reasons. I go out too strong the first 15; My nutrition during the race sux; My hydration sux; or I had Mexican the night before. Not "a" Mexican, but you know their deeeelishush food. The plan was to treat Cheaha as a training run for Thunder Rock 100 miler. Yeah easier said than done. Have you ever toe'd the starting line and not felt like racing? This race was different. I had to determine whether starting conservatively actually made a difference, or is 31 miles the same no matter what.

So a few of us are sitting in Tony's bus warming up before the start. All of a sudden this dude in front of us pulls out a kettle bell and begins Crossfittin right there. It's like he did the whole "Workout on Da Wall (WOD)" or whatever it stands for, right there in front of us. Is this dude seriously crossfittin right here before a 50k? Yep! His lady pulled out a 24" ipad and filmed him as he played with his bell. Well, we will get back to Crossfit Cletus later.

Sweet Home Alabama signals the race start and immediately we hit the trail head. Within 100 feet we are walking. Benj reminds me that this is just a training run. There were what seemed to be a couple of first time 50k'ers causing a train on the single track. My heart rate was down and breathing good. Fortunately this year there was no fog and you could actually see the wonderful views that I had heard about. The plan from Hot Daniel was for me to take a gel every 35 minutes. I stuck to that as best as possible.

So Benj and I are cruising nicely when we come up on this chic who when I talk, she thinks I'm talking to her...She was you know one of those easy on the eyes chic; long dark hair and a tan that would make an Indian jealous, not the Native kind you know the Subway owning kind...And whats the friggin deal with them only giving you one napkin with your footlong meatball? We begin a wonderful fast down hill and Pochahotchic is hammering down. We got to the bottom and she's grabbing her tights, then begins to tell us how they were falling down. A funny "quarter in a coin-slot" joke came to mind, but I thought it best to be quiet for once.

We come to a dirt road and there is the Crossfitin truck and a tire on the ground. I was gonna throw my E-Gel wrapper in the tire when I saw the sledge hammer next to it. Evidently, Crossifit Cletus was doing the Work Out on Da Wall (WOD) at various points. What? So we leave Pochahotchic and stay steady. Around mile 14 my knees began to hurt. By the time I made it to the 18 mile aid station I was able to get some Ibuprofen. Although beautiful, much of the first 18 miles is on single-track that is on a slant. 

18 miles and I was truly treating this as a training run. No pressure, not worrying about the time...Just enjoying being in the woods with a great friend. We ate together, we drank together, heck we even pee'd together. We finally make it to the water crossings...WHOOOOOOHOOOO! The temperature had risen and we needed to cool off. Normally I would never just take a break and sit in water like this. However, there was no pressure today. The water was freezing cold. In fact I sat in it so long my butt-crack went numb. I seriously could not feel it. As we leave Tony and Gregg at the water I realize just how much that cold water did for me. I felt invigorated, refreshed and numb in my wipe alley. 

I knew when we got to the gravel road that our finish was close. This time last year I was suffering and walking. Not today, we were smiling, running and passing a bunch of people. Ok, you know that feeling when people start passing you in the last six miles? Dink Taylor said that when that happens, energy transfers from you to them....It is true. Well today Benj and I were being SLAMMED with transfers. It felt great. We reach Blue Hell and start the suckfest....You know what? It went by quickly. What made last year so bad was that even when you reached the top of Blue Hell, you still weren't through climbing. Not today! The game plan worked.

Benj would not let me tell him the time during the race. All he let me tell him was that we would make our 7 hr goal. We hit the road up top and I told him where we were time wise. We were gonna blow out our goal. We crossed the finish line around 6:34. I had beaten my previous years races by 20 minutes. How is that possible? I wasn't racing and PR'd. I guess there is something to staying conservative.

For the first time in my 50k career I came across the finish line jumping in the air. I felt great. Even better was sharing the experience with such a great guy.

As we are leaving Martin is trying to get my attention...I look over and Cletus Crossfit is lifting 985lbs on a barbell while Jill and the 24" iPad records him. So, the point was? Maybe my Crossfit friends can help me understand what this guy was doing. I hope he doesn't read this. Pretty sure he could kick my butt, or stick that kettle bell up my brown eye.

It was great seeing my Huntsville, Birmingham, Georgia and Chattanooga friends. There is nothing like getting to know all these freaks who do this crazy stuff. My name is Cary Long...and I am an UltraRunner.

Mountain Mist 2014- The Amish Superwoman

Mtn Mist 2014 was my year. I made radical improvements in my diet over the past 4 weeks; lost 5 lbs; good weekly miles; didn't eat hot-wings the night before. My goal was 5:30. And why not? I ran Dizzy Fifties in 5:22 and the previous year my times were only 10 minutes apart.

Ok, lets get something straight right of the bat. Some of ya'll think I pick on Christy and call her out a lot. Well......yeah it's true. But let me explain why. Christy is the baseline to which I strive for, except without having boobs. So yeah, my goal is to beat her (non-domestically) every race I can. 

The race starts and it's Dana, Christy and myself on the opening drive. The trails are frozen so what was once mud grooves was now ankle snappers. I'm sporting runderwear, pro-combat compression shorts and run shorts with a panty-liner. Mr. Poppers went numb once so I wasn't taking any chances.

Going down Mtn Mist I feel giddy and decide to push it and leave the lovely ladies. I finally catch Rick Maehlmann's balmy white legs and try to stay with him as long a possible. I felt so good that I was running the inclines, in essence just going for it. Down Warpath, through power-line and quick stepping/hiking K2. Goat trail was no problem. On the inclines I bent my legs a little and kept running. Coming to 3 benches I see Keith and Chia Chi who holler and cheer so loud for me that it was almost embarrassing. I mean they were screaming and Keith was rubbing his mipples...I just ignored them and kept pressing on. While thinking about their excessive display of love toward me I catch a toe and BOOOM! Knee on the rocks, water bottle top flew off and all my water on the ground. That fall had an impact on me. I knew with it being in the 20's I would be ok without water until mile 17.

Around to Logan and through stone cuts where Gregg and Karen were tongue kissing and taking pictures of it. I asked if I could join (what happens in the stone cuts, stays in the stone cuts). Coming down Sinks there is this lady from Pennsylvania running with me. She didn't look like she was from Pennsylvania, cause she didn't have the beard and bowl cut. Guess she's a contemporary. Anyway, while running I can hear her coming around to pass me when all of a sudden I heard that sound....you know that sound, that sound that makes demon's tremble...thats right, the sound of a toe catching a root. BOOOOM! I look back and her whole body was extended sliding like superwoman. She hit so hard her mammry's poked out her back. I did what any man would do...asked her if she was alright while I kept running.

Made it to 17 fine wondering if I had enough in me for the back 14. I hit High Trail and find Jason Shattuck, to which I am being very quite until I can pass his big-lipped redneck butt. All of a sudden I smell something and hear this manly voice saying, "You better get outta my way!" I look back and its friggin Christy. Believe it our not, I was happy. I knew I was slowing down, and I new she was gonna PR. She left me and Jason like it was nothing.

Bluffline and Railroad bed are the parts I normally fly on. Not today, my gas was running out (not that gas even though I did crop dust some people). I made it to Railroad bed and was greeted by the Collin's, and the Giles'. I was breaking, and then I found out that Robyn had bought me a Mtn Dew and had it waiting like she did last year. WOW! I love those Yankees. 

While at the Railroad Bed aid station this dude in a German accent (not Martin), yelled at one of the ladies to open his candy bar faster. I think he was joking but I bough got pissed off. This dude was wearing moulott's or his grandmas stretched out panty hose. As we started running he stumped his toe and hollered some obscenities. To be honest...I laughed. 

I make it to Waterline and have not looked at the time once. I do my best to run as much of Waterline as possible. The ice waterfall was gorgeous, and the climb past it sucked. I get to the mile 24 aid station and am greeted by my buddy Megan who gets me the Coke that super-awesome Anna Edmiston got for me. This is where it happened. Daniel Carter asks me if I still plan to do 5:30, to which I reply yes. Now remember, I had no clue the time. He said, "well you have 50 minutes to get there".....EMOTIONAL CRASH! I knew that I could  not do the 6 miles and two climbs in 50 minutes. Could I have made 5:49 like I did last year? Probably, however I was so focused on the 5:30 that I pretty much gave up. The last 6 miles was devastating. People were passing me over and over. I was "that guy" that has to step aside and let the little old grannies in ATS's pass by (all-terrain-scooters).

I looked at Death Trail thought about the option to quit there. How sick is that? Within 3 miles of the finish and have a thought to bail out. I pressed on as smiling people like Kris Strope, Dave, and Kyle pass me. I make it to the top of rest shelter and am greeted by a great group of folk like Drew Williams and Josh Kennedy...except I was a whiny buttwipe.

With a mile to go I hear coming from behind saying..."Oh, this is gonna hurt." It was Jason Shattuck as he passed me. Made it to the finish with a good time, however, I felt defeated and disappointed. I didn't even make my time from 2 yrs ago.

People have said repeatedly, "Well you finished...at least you didn't give up..." Truth is, I did give up. I gave up 6 miles earlier.

Don't ever give up. I learned some valuable 100 miler lessons that day. 

This race report is dedicated to the Giles family. While working the aid station and serving me Mtn Dew, their beloved dog Socrates passed from a bout with Cancer. I truly appreciate all they do in the running community.

 I love my running community!

UPDATE: I love Keith and Chia Chi...I'm honored they even remember my name.

Upchuck 2013-Immodium and the White Wiper

Do you see the map to the left? It does ZERO justice to what we actually went through on Saturday, November 9, 2013. I had feared signing up for the Upchuck 50K for three years. This year I felt I had the training and preparation to attempt this race. On the Rock Creek website it explicitly states that this SHOULD NOT be your first 50K attempt, and that it will probably be your slowest 50K. Well what the freak do they know. I am from Alabama. I once took 1st in my age group at a Turkey Day race with at least 3 in my age group. 

Photo by Reuben Watkins

Myself and four of my hairy brothers (Rob Youngren, Benj Lance, Jeff Deaton, and James Suh) commuted to Hixson, TN and speculated what the race would be like over Lupi's Pizza. We get to the finish line awaiting the ride to the start. It was so cold my nipples started to crystalize. 

Photo by Reuben Watkins

We finally boarded the prison bus and was greeted by the OU's (Original Upchucker's), which one was sporting a prison jumpsuit, afro and bubba teeth. By the look of the jumpsuit sucking in his crack, makes you wonder if he dropped the soap one to many times before breaking out. Anyway, I was getting real nervous because I had no brownie bites going down the dookie-chute. So some dude gave me what I can only hope was an Imodium. He said I was taking half a dose and should be able to resume normal squat posturing the next day. Well, you should never listen to the medical advice of an ultra-runner you don't know...just saying. I didn't poop for three days, and when I did...WHOA, I literally mangled the industrial toilet at work, and there was someone waiting to go in when I left.  

So we get the the starting area and I am greeted by my bro Hot Daniel, (aka Daniel Lucas) and he had a friend standing with him who we will call Hot Kat. So we all line up for a group picture before the start.

On your mark, get set, GO! We are off. Within the first 100 feet the lead runners were off course, and were coming back as we approached. The views were amazing, well, what you could actually see, because you feared for your teeth if you dared to look away. I am feeling great and have settled into a great rhythm. Pretty much the first 6 miles are uphill. However, it does not seem that hard. At some point, (I don't remember where) the trail becomes this beautiful pine straw laden Heaven.

Around mile 7 we hit the first aid station and I drink a little coke and continue pursuing the win.

Shortly after leaving the aid station something off to the side of the woods catches my eye. It's the White Wiper and he was assuming the airline crash position. Come to find out this covert crapper was Mr. Jeff Deaton himself (sorry to call you out like this dude...). We begin the remaining journey together. Beautiful trails, bridges and gorges. Jeff remembered that around mile 13 there was a climb on the chart akin to a space needle. We hiked steadfastly feeling great. Eventually, we come to the mile 18 aid station and are greeted by the Tennessee Sasquatch himself, Mr. Michael Scott. I cannot say enough great things about this guy. He laughs at me when I cry and gives great gifts. I love you man! I choke down some amazing choco-chip pumpkin squares, while the entire aid-station ladies incessantly flirted with me. Me, Jeff, and some blonde short-haired chic leave the aid station and run the interstate before entering a trail that runs along the road. This is where things started going downhill for me. I was feeling great until then. In fact, I was a little cocky thinking how well I was doing. Eventually the run to the gorge and back up to the top started again. The hills were like a cold sore on a hooker, they just kept coming back. We bottom out to a gorge where there is a "Future" bridge and another that looked like Atz Lee from "Alaska the Last Frontier" built with his "not as pretty as Eiven's wife" wife, which consisted of a couple of trees spanning the divide held together with some rubber bands. When you cross to the other side, trying to find the trail is like a fat man trying to find that one TP square that broke off in his crack...you gotta get your hands dirty climbing around. Finally found the trail. Jeff and the blonde chick left me at the road earlier and I was by myself for 99% of the remaining time.

The hills were not the issue for me. It seemed like the last 8 or so miles consisted of a single track covered in leaves. Well that doesn't sound too bad right? Add in a continuous rock garden with shifting flat rocks. Then add in the type of trail that you cannot get any rhythm on. Meaning you run 2 steps, walk up and repeat over and over. There were so many leaves that often times I would slip and barely catch myself. At one point I slipped and landed on the side of my face. I was happy to lay there for a moment and wonder "why do I do this?"

Photo by Reuben Watkins

Eventually Dreamy Dreama catches me and gives me the good news that we have one more climb and that I could look off to the right and see the lake where we would end up. Dreama, I freakin did not want to see that stupid lake. Why? Because, the trail taking us there was going in the opposite direction. I was done! Jeff, was ahead of me, I had fallen, my feet were killing me...then there was the road...I ran around an 8:30 pace downhill, and that was as fast as I could go.

Touched the garbage can and I was done. This was the cool part, my bro Daniel and Joe St. Lawrence hung around long enough to see me come through to the finish. Michael Scott seemed to be enjoying the pain I was in. I was told to write my name and time down by myself. How cruel is that? I sat there for a second and tried to remember how to spell my name.

My impression of Upchuck. EPIC! Every 50ker should do this race. I equate much of the trail system to what I experienced at Savage Gulf.

BTW! Anyone reading this remember the Great "Shoe Debate of 2013" post?

Photo by Reuben Watkins

Photo by Reuben Watkins

Photo by I think Michael Scott