225 Miles today.
The company (God bless their little pea-pickin' heart) cut us loose early for the long weekend. That's all it took to motivate this boy. Pulled out of the house about 2:30, loaded up and ready to go. So far I've only noted two key things forgotten, both footwear: my red Converse high-tops and my deck shoes. Until I make a stop I have only boots to wear. How can one make a fashion statement without the red Converse? Have to muddle through.
Nothing to report yet. Stopped for the night at a little Super 8 motel and went next door to the Maverick cafe. If you understand the term maverick you know that it's a weaned yearling with no brand. I can understand why. That sucker's been out there running around foraging on the plain for about six months and a hot iron couldn't dent the piece of meat I had tonight. Suffice it to say there's no threat of Guy Fieri showing up here. But, the coffee was good and the two little old ladies who were waitin' tables were sweet. They looked about eighty to eighty-five years old and, working as they were, it's probably not a good story. Of course, we all know now the rising tide was at best temporary and turned most of the boats over on its way out.
Up and running tomorrow. Hope you are having as much fun as I...but I doubt it.
