Hangin' it out in the cozy curl! But this pipeline is made of smoke and the nose is sniffing through it. As it does its Hula dance (Limbo for the guardrail now), then dive in at a thousand feet, or be flattened like a coyote painting black holes at the Big End. Beach Boys never harmonized like that 392! And the 'chute catches another wave... Wipe the oil off the goggles and see the future—less than a tiny hour away from the next ride. Small price to pay…