The vacation is over. No more hotels, no more nice meals, no more support vehicle. Most importantly: No more parental supervision. Finally I can stay up past 9 pm and eat cookies for breakfast!
….and it made me a bit woozy. I don’t adjust to the thin air of high elevation very easily. The breathtaking sights of the Canadian Rockies didn’t help!
You can tell a lot about a man by looking at his boots. Looking at my boots will tell you that I am either severely lacking in funds, or severely lacking in judgement. A day of riding in perpetual rain across the Canadian plains has left me questioning my footwear selection.
I gotta be honest. I abhor the term “Midwest”. It seems to have become a blanket term that can be applied to any place between New York and LA. I prefer to refer to the area that I am from as The Plains, The Prairie or even The Heartland. Over the last few days I’ve come to realize that the Heartland’s northern bounds stretch all the way into Saskatchewan.
A brief summary of the most ridiculous of hood ornaments.
When it is time for a human to learn to walk, it is a gradual process. They are allowed to slowly progress through the stages of locomotion until walking is achieved. Baby birds are given no such accommodation when it is time for them to learn to fly. They are thrust from the nest and must relay on instant instinct to avoid a crash……….I’m kind of feeling like a baby bird right now.
Just as the Allies stormed the beaches of Normandy, my storming of the hemisphere begins today.