A lone wolf howled somewhere in the hills as night fell upon the small mountain town.   

While everything looked normal on the outside, behind the towns a-frame houses and snow slum condos was a dark secret. Built upon an ancient elephant graveyard and a less ancient nuclear waste swamp, the woods of the town were said to be haunted by a ghost. Legend has it that one day this kid was riding, and his gloves got wet , so he just threw them into the woods and kept riding. Only problem was his wet gloves landed in an elephant skull that was filled with radioactive nuclear waste. Weeks went by and no one thought of the gloves, the rider kept riding, but his hands always got cold. Then one night during a massive snowstorm the skull was struck by lightening and the gloves turned into a mean ghost. The next day the kid was out riding his favorite woods run when he came face to face with the ghost. One part glove, one part elephant, and two parts wet, it was like the scariest thing ever. Terrified the rider pointed it. An epic chase ensued, but the gloves were just too strong and wet, and eventually the rider got stuck in the flats never to be seen again. Some say he just moved back to Minnesota, some say he was eaten by the gloves, but on quiet nights you can still hear the squishy sound of his soaked gloves trying to grab crail.

Uh… ok, maybe that story isn’t totally true but the curse of swamp hands totally is. If the cold wetness doesn’t get you while riding, the way your hands smell after marinating in gross wet gloves all day will. To combat this problem we are giving away three pairs of GORE-TEX gloves every week until the end of January. Click here for your chance to win bro, or forever live in fear of old swamp hands.

Misty Nug: The number 4 most common place to see ghosts is perched in a chair. 

Part  of a well balanced week of Burton blog posts officially known as "Now Read This,"

Stoked on Saturday provides the positive energy needed to get through a Sunday of no posts