the road winds on, and the time spent out here is starting to wear. dcp was in charge of the dinner reservation, had to wait a bit because the bistro was of full of a group he described as a 'weight watchers' group...i think he meant 'wildlife watchers'. same thing i guess. we push on despite the diminishing weather with hopes of windows to shop, if only the landings don't get ruupped by the sledders.
down to one, solo session, the streaker is still focused on the job at hand. the 700 club as reliable as hell as the cylinders freeze solid on the rest of the machines...the black barred villager ready to have the miles of up rewarded with a first track on the monster that awaits.
