Rich Rostauscher

Pittsburgh, and the mountains to the east.

You know that dance, the one-legged chicken dance? It’s the one where you (or someone. certainly not me.) grab your head with one hand and your ankle with the other, and then kind of gyrate and pump while hopping on the other leg? Well, RIch Rostaucher can do that. Or at least he used to be able to do it. Or at least my recollection is that he could do it. But that was seriously like 1996 when I met him. We worked on the Snowsports School at Seven Springs, PA (which, in the mid-90s was still called the ski school because nobody gave a damn that snowboarders were on it, at least enough to change the name, anyway because it was a fad, right? Punks.) and I remember him doing that dance at the bar. Or at least I think I do. It was late. You’ll have to ask him.

In the meantime he’s been doing badass things on the river. And on bicycles. And raising a badass kid named Lil RIchie who’s a Natural Cause Field Grommet.

I wonder if Lil Richie knows about Big RIchie’s one-legged chicken dance-days?