When we realized we couldn't get any closer without walking, that was when we knew this was happening. We sat comfortably in my Scion, the AC pelting our already cold faces, some Vampire Weekend track quietly kept the mood upbeat, maybe even encouraging. It was an hour and a half before the sun went down, so it wasn't like we were going to be entering horror movie realm, but the idea of exploring an abandoned dog track at any time of day didn't rest well with me completely. "Well... let's do this." Torrin Lundberg is unique. I wanted to give him a location that was entirely that. He certainly earned it. As we walked, and conversed about how his senior year unfolded, I kept imagining Torrin as a missionary, and how his boldness would serve him well when the time came for him to teach the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It was also easy for me to think about how his humor could certainly uplift the many souls that he would come in contact with. Torrin is a riot. He has that unusual humor that is charming on a few levels, until he takes it a step too far. But hey, he's a Lundberg, it happens.
We went on to explore the empty, and expansive dog track and its' unusual buildings. As the light faded, the noises grew weirder, the grittiness of the landscape went from unusual to unnerving, and we slowly made our way out. But as we did, so did the bats. Thousands and thousands, flying out together in a mass exodus, and we did what anyone would do when caught up in such a sight, "oh this is rad, let's get a shot of you in front of all this."
This is Torrin Lundberg, and he's been liberated.