Patagonia has just launched a podcast, Patagonia Stories. In each episode,

host our Chana Rom will explore how we gather knowledge and ask questions about our relationship

to each other in the natural world. Questions like, how are lessons passed down through generations

to help us feel at home? What barriers prevent us from acquiring natural wisdom? How can we adapt

in the face for rapidly changing climate? There's so much more to come. You can find the first season

of Patagonia Stories wherever you get your podcasts.

You're listening to The Derback Dary, a production of Duck Tape Than Beer, with additional support from

Kuat Racks because you love your bike, athletic greens, the daily drink for healthier you,

and kicking horse coffee, wake up and kick ass.

I have a confession to make. I have a send it tattoo.

The first time I heard the phrase send it was in 2014. I was a junior in college,

living in Brighton, Massachusetts with four sweaty skateboarders and our self-proclaimed skatehouse.

Our floors were sticky and scuffed from frequent parties and carpetboarding shenanigans.

We had a sketchy half pipe in the backyard and a waxed curb in our driveway.

We all lived to skateboard, down-ha-longboard, snowboard, any board sport we could get our hands on.

A few of us also rode mo-pets, not vespas or scooters but old school mo-pets.

The poop maxis and tomos targas. The kind that probably annoyed the shit out of you when they

drive by sounding like a runaway lawnmower. We would strap skateboards to our bikes and ride

all over Boston. We called ourselves the Humb City Savages and we were probably in nuisance.

Everything we did felt epic to me back then. I was young, fit, and admittedly a little reckless.

Though I was busy with college and part-time work, I was just starting to figure out a work-life

balance that made me happy. The words send it fit right into my vocabulary. When one of my

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