It’s that time. I’ve been able to put it off for almost a week now, but along with Jenni, I am finally facing my very last piece of journalism in the Daily Nexus. Actually it’s my last piece of journalism ever, seeing as how my dad promised to revoke my inheritance if I become a journalist. Considering I already spent it, I figure I should probably quit.

On Sunday of this week I set out on my last little adventure for this column. My brother and I set out for the fabled land of Los Angeles where traffic kept me company on my way to K1 Speed in Torrance.

K1 Speed is a chain of Go Kart raceways that basically allow you sit in a vehicle that places your butt about an inch-and-a-half off the ground while you rip around the racetrack at speeds up to 45 miles per hour.

Retired racecars and door panels greeted me when I walked into the place. Apparently indoor Go Kart raceways are where old NASCAR cars go to die. We walked up to the track and I was a little disappointed to find that the Karts weren’t exactly hauling ass like I had envisioned.

Soon enough, I was pulling on a head sock, a piece of attire that sounds exactly like what it is. Once I looked sufficiently like a robber with just my eyes and nostrils showing, I jammed my head into a helmet and was ready for the safety briefing.

A relatively bored-looking employee delivered our briefing that consisted of a breakdown of the flags and explained the “no bumping” rule. The basic rule of thumb appeared to be go as fast you can without crashing into walls or other people.

Seconds later I was tearing around the track at speeds that made my regular car seem ridiculously slow. After just 14 laps around the track I had whittled down my time to 34.33 seconds and I couldn’t wait to jump back on the track. Unfortunately, I had other engagements across town.

Just thirty minutes down the miserable LA freeway, I arrived at iFly Hollywood. This establishment, located in the heart of the Universal CityWalk, gives you the opportunity to skydive indoors, a more attractive alternative than actually plummeting toward the ground. Don’t let me fool you though, there is an element of danger here as well, as the force keeping you afloat is driven by two massive fans that would chop even the most resilient Bond villain into a million little bits. There is a grate keeping you alive but I chose to ignore that piece of info: I like the terror.

After suiting up in a flight suit, helmet and goggles, you lean forward through the doorway where you are floated up into the chamber with the assistance of an instructor. The instructor is there to keep you from flying full speed into the Plexiglas walls or totally failing.

The whole experience is fleeting, only lasting about a minute for the standard flight. Considering the relative safety of flying in a tube instead of the sky, it might just be worth your while.

As the year comes to a close and my duties come to an end it is with a sorrowful heart that I say goodbye. I hope that I have at least helped you figure out a couple things to do besides get wasted. Not that getting smashed doesn’t have its own merits, just that there are other things to do before you do so. Next year I’ll be teaching high school and shaping young minds and therefore won’t be here to suggest little jaunts for you. That said, I hope you will do me a favor and get yourself out of I.V. Seriously, its good for you. Not to mention that doing so will prove to the community that Gauchos do more than drink, destroy beaches and scare the shit out families who make the mistake of driving through I.V. by accident.