Just because you don’t have the same blood doesn’t mean you can’t be somebody else’s brother. That’s the case with me and my brothers Tony and Mike (Big Shmoove). I love them and the rest of the LeBeauf familia like my own. I love when we get together with the rest of the crazy Cali-Creoles and have a good time. (Quick shout out to my primas, Tracy and Dawn!)
One of the many activities I like to do with my brothers is hike/run in the foothills and mountains of the Crown. There’s one place in particular we always go to: Skyline. On a clear day, when you get to the top of Skyline, you can see the Pacific Ocean, Catalina Island, Anaheim Stadium, Disneyland, the skyscrapers of downtownL.A. and the South Bay. It is absolutely incredible.
There’s a main road that can lead you to the top. There is also a nature trail that takes you into a valley and another one that takes you around the side of a different valley. Then there is also the ridgeline. We’ve done them all and depending on our mood, we’ll choose accordingly. On one rainy day, that all changed.
The day started out dreary but we were determined to get a hike in. Tony suggested we go try and find an old watering hole he used to fish back in the day. Me and Mike were cool with it and decided to go along. Unbeknownst to us (que fancy – unbeknownst), Tony didn’t quite remember the exact route. Needles to say we were trailblazing. No sooner do we get towards a hill that it begins to rain. We soldier on.
I kept on looking for at least a game trail but Tony insisted he knew the way. “Wrong! Wrong!” We are covered in mud, we are soaked and we’re getting colder. We must have criss crossed at least four miles of bushes and thicket just to get to a site that was only a half mile away. Leading the charge was Tony, of course.
On our way back, me and Shmoove were getting tired from following Captain Cave Man. We were getting close to returning when we had to navigate a man-made reservoir. Tony went down a slope and me and Shmoove decided to go a different way we thought was faster. Well, it turns out it was a deeper slope. I took my time going down but then from the corner of my eye, I see Big Shmoove pass me by. He just wanted to get down fast and get home. He got down fast alright.
Now Big Shmoove is called Shmoove for a reason. Almost everything he does is smooth or as I like to say, shmoove. One time when we were leaving a restaurant, he tripped over a wheel stop but didn’t fall on his face. In what appeared to be his downfall, he turned his shoulders, pirouetted around another wheel stop and balanced out into his normal strut. Shmoove!
Back to the descent; so I see Shmoove rushing past me. He gets no more than three feet ahead when he slips onto his butt. Being the proud man he is, and wanting to retain the shmooveness that he is known for, he tries to jump up out of the fall but instead trips out of that and proceeds to roll down the hill where Tony is waiting.