My house has been busy like a monkeyhouse on fire.
It looks like tornado weather is on the way and the timing couldn’t be more perfect. I can roll up the drawbridge and flood the moat. Let the snakes rise.
I hosted a tourist lap at Munson yesterday and I was grateful just to be on home soil, even as I kept one timorous eye on my friend and colleague wheezing and swooning behind me. This is the same fellow who dropped and flopped like a giant catfish on the beach in the lobby of a West Virginia hotel the last time we rode. He sustained consciousness this time, but just barely. He’s more of a basketball guy.
I hope this storm soaks the forest to the point of Zamboni-smoothness tonight.