We said goodbye to Pensacola but only after I cracked a crown.
I broke a front tooth riding a mountain bike in California 30 years ago and it has been nothing but an irritation ever since. Chewing corn off the cob was bloody stupid in that condition and I paid the price.
Jack Riepe described this as my vacation face. I joked while I bled and they stuck me with needles and glue. All is well if temporarily and my insurance kicked in for half the 200 dollar bill. Onwards!
Rusty was the epitome of patience on his bed in the back seat, popping up from time time to look around and then curling up for a nap. I love his curiosity at every stop no matter how mundane. He loves life.
I know we overdo the mileage on these road trips but there is so much to see and so many people to meet that destination gets piled on destination. Riding the folds of land last night across Tennessee I couldn't help but wonder how the non- freeway roads must have twisted and undulated but we had to arrive so we drove 75 with bursts to 80 inbetween blue flashing lights, of which there were too many and I achieved my goal of not talking to a cop for a day.
Schloss Sadler in the dark of a full moon forested night. Instead of being greeted by vampires and creaking doors we ate chicken and biscuits and cobbler and beer and conversation and Rusty could hardly contain himself when he saw the woods. Good things come to them as wait.
Gary and Barbara melted away to do the jobs that got their kids through college and raised them in these corner of a different Paradise than thet say is Key West. Gary lists after Key West and now I'm here I wonder why.
Watching Rusty prowl the woods and sit in the lush grass to watch the world goby I know where he'd rather be. I can't fault my dog for his common sense.