Paddling Since: 94
Join Date: Oct 2003
The sadest of news tonight...Max Sullivan died today while paragliding in aspen...He was trying a wingover and got caught up in the canopy and fell to his death...For those of you who didn't get the priveledge to spend time with max I will tell you he was a balls out man with a sense of humor that would keep you up in the wee hours of the night at the campfire waiting for what was next...He was a great boater(not cutting edge like he made you people think,and he would be the first to admit it) a great mtn biker that would never let you get in front and you would die trying,Skier,his latest thing was paragliding..He had over a 100 flights and was an p3 rated pilot...4yrs ago max broke his neck in Cali and was in a halo for a year trying to get back to his old self and he did with the exception of never being able to run the harder class 5 he used to...He had a brutal 5yrs of adversity and he always came out shinning..He was without a doubt a great inspiration and man..He will be missed greatly by his friends... This is by far one of the greatest and funniest post this site has seen....He never took himself serious and some of you did,and he loved it...When you read this again,think about a guy with no ego and trying to stop laughing while writing this...
What up brahs? It's been a while and while it's certainly true that the Chunderboy has been keeping a low profile that does not in anyway mean that he, or his hardcore crew, have been on a paddling hiatus. So, while you choads may think you finally got the ole' monkey off your back, yall' better guess again...Chunder is back! Better lock up your sisters and pray to god I don't decide that it's your wife I want to take to bed when me and my crew come to visit your podunk town. That aint no warning, it's a god damn promise-you choads best put all your punani on lockdown, or the Chunderposse will turn that shiat out. That being said, it is with deep regret that I have been forced to let Wayne Chorter go. He was without a doubt the most underqualified and slow witted member of our illustrious grew. His hapless paddling escapades over past seasons earned him the nickname "rookie"- a nickname that we hoped he would one day outgrow. Elmer and Jeter had thier doubts about the guy from the begining-claiming that his pronouciation of the word "bagel" was a sure sign of the some sort of mental retardation. I convinced the boys that we should give this lovable loser a chance, and now I feel the time has come for me to openly admit that I was wrong. I called Chorter in Feb from my posh condo in the world renowned ski village of Zermat (a timeshare I share with none other than Duran Duran frontman Simon Lebon) to inform him that the he would have to have a strong showing in the 2005 creeking season or he would be cut. There is only so long you can hold a guys hand-only so many second chances that should be permitted. The Chunderposse is an exclusive crew and "rookie's" hack paddling style was begining to become somewhat of a liability to the our overall reputation. Truth be told, if the kid's girlfriend hadn't of bought him a brand new Nissan truck, chances are we would have nixed his ass back in 2004. In any case, even that fancy truck couldn't save Chorter from his fate- the kid just lacks the necessary skills to ever become a full fledged member of our crew. Maybe Hobie and those guys want him? Hell, those choads can have him, after all, we all know that the Vail standards for radness and overall badassness (ie. thier acceptance of excommunicted Steamboat paddler Hippie Rob) are far less stringent than those adhered to by the elite Chunderposse. Let me now relate the unfortunate event that led to Chorter's dismissal. I was kicking it with two of the girls from Bannnarama in the VIP room of a Prauge night club when Chorter called to inform me that conditions in Durango were ripe for the taking. Flows were so big that even Gary E and his band of Front Range loonies were afarid to go in. Gary and the boys had recieved a major ass-whoopin' on the class four Escalante a week prior, and I guess they were still nursing thier shattered egos. In any case, the Chunderposse was on its way- once again ready to set the standard for cutting edge class five Colorado hair boating. We borrowed a lear jet from the other guy from Wham and flew staight from Prauge international into the southwestern shiathole that is Durango, Colorado. Chorter met us at the airport, and as we loaded our gear into his truck I detected that he was concerned that conditions had gotten too big. He was trying to convince us that we should all run the Piedra (spanish for old man's piss) while the flows on the classics, like the West Fork of the San Juan, subsided. Jeter stepped forward and bitch slapped Chorter and called him a "little rookie biatch"-needless to say Wayne did not seem up for the challenge that layed ahead. Elmer, never one to be shy about showing his feeelings, came forward and kneed Chorter in the balls. As Chorter dropped to the ground I calmly explained to him that we had had a long flight and were understandably a tad bit irritable, and that his best course of action was to quit being such a little biatch, and to try his best not to scratch any of our brand new AT paddles as he placed them into the vehicle. The next day saw us at the put in for the West Fork of the San Juan. Chorter looked gipped as hell, and kept asking stupid questions the whole hike up- Have you guys eve been here when it's this big? Blah...blah...blah...the kid was sweating like Shady Rich's armpit on a Westwater shuttle and he was blabbering like a foolish idiot. We got to the put in and Chorter tried to pull a Boone, claiming that he had left his sprayskirt at the house. Elmer, having seen Chorter slyly stash the spray skirt the night before in a closet, produced the item much to the dismay of the terrified Durango paddler. "Nice try Chachie, here's your skirt-now be a good little girlie and put it on!" Enraged at Chorter's lack of self-confidence, and his Boone-like evasive techniques, I gave his face a solid whack with the backside of my hand. He fell to the ground and pleaded with us not to make him go through with the mission-but we were not having it. About a mile into the run is when the shiat hit the fan. We came upon a rather benign section of class three, the only visable hazard was a stainer on the river right. Haphazardly Chorter floated right into the stainer- yard saling his boat and some rather pricey camera gear. We chased his crap, but a nasty downstream sieve made sure that the there would be no recovery of gear this time around. Chorter was shaken but otherwise physically ok, financially however, he was not so lucky. He had suffered a loss of approximately three thousand dollars worth of gear. The epsisode was a disgrace to the Chunderposse and sure sign that Chorter was not now, or at any time in the concievable future, ready for the prime time. We left him there in the San Juan national forrest crying like a little biatch and begging for our mercy. Jeter, Elmer, and myself styled the remainder of the run- with no rookie to look after the Chunderposse was running on all cylinders and restored once agin to its elite status. At the take out we parleyed Chorter's losses-taking his new truck, and leaving him to walk his sorry ass home to Durango. What's next for Chorter? We could care less- unlike the Kern brothers we are not a bunch of baby sitters, we are a laid back ski town brah crew whose sole purpose is to get her done and with a brand new Nissan truck at our disposal we will easily be able to access any run we want. The Chunderposse has always known when the time is right for cutting our losses- a true sign of any legitimate playa'. Just as we parted ways with Vin Diesel after his boxoffice flop The Chronicles of Riddick, so too were we forced to say goodbye to the rookie. See the rest of you douche bags on the water...later biatches!!!