It took us almost 24 hours to make it to Selma. While on the outskirts of Selma Duane started to complain about having a fever. Duane is about the toughest mofro I've ever met. So when he starts complaining you know its serious. Duane had gotten swellllllboooo from shreding the gnar a bit too hard. We were hopping through some lines in Birmingham and he bumped it pretty good on a ladder and I guess this aggrivated the swelbow and Duane started to feel shity. We decided to hop onto another train headed back to Birmingham since the junker was taking its sweet time to get there. We rode it for a bit and then decided to hop off in Montevallo.
My good friend Wess came and picked us up from a gas station in the boonies of college town USA. We were all ready to get home and Duane was feeling even worse than before. It turns out that Dunae had a blood stream infection that was actually life threatening. On his way home he started to pass out and eventually found his way to the doctor. They immediately put him into intensive care and kept him for observation. Apparently this shit was serious. Duane ended up spending 14 days in the hospital, and that fool wouldn't even give us his room number so we could come visit! The doctors said if he'd have waited any longer they would have had to amputate his arm. It was luck that we got of where we did, but all said and done Duane is one tough mother fucker. They had to put a drain in his arm so he didn't die. Overall the trip was a success. Andrew and Duane got to experience the joy and suffering of riding trains, and nobody lost any limbs. Hopefully, we'll get to go again soon. Low down with my broseph and the team mates is the way to be.
