Here’s another funny story:
We have a crazy snowboarding fan base, so every winter we hit up the mountains and rock a gang of shows at all the resorts from Tahoe to Vermont. When I go on these snow trips I like to rock the shows Carharrt down—extreme jacket, extreme bib, extra warm hat and some hunting gloves. I’m a Cali ninja and that subzero s#it is not the business.
So, one night Souls were supposed to fly out to Miami and meet back up with the rest of Hiero on the mountain tour the next day. We ended up missing our plane (sorry Fresh El Camino!!!), so we had to come back and stay on the tour. This is the mountains. All of the hotels are booked with skiers and tourists, so we don’t have enough rooms. I decided to sleep in the van, I figure I’m Arctic suited down, so I’ll be warm for the night.
I lay down in the backseat of the van, kick off my shoes, and knock out. Around 3 in the morning, I wake up to urinate. I get up, slide the van door open, and stand on the running board of the van to try to go in the snow.
BUT MY FEET ARE COMPLETELY NUMB.
I had slept with my shoes off in the freezing van, so I had no feeling in my feet. I fell face forward into a stream of pee and landed in the bank of snow with my jimmy out, in the middle of the mountains with frozen feet.
Next time somebody else is sleeping in the van!