Back Home

HW in her sh*t kickers. Our last day in Texas I think. You do not want to end up on the wrong side of a kick from one of those bad boys.

We had a good time in the Texas Hill Country. Though it’s always a little sad at the end of a tour. I’ve been on many over the years.  At the start you’re pressed together with people most of whom you’ve never met before, and for a week or more you do everything together – cycle, eat breakfast, meet each night (to discuss the next day), sleep in the same hotel, etc.. Then before you know it – Poof! – the tour’s over. There’s the hugs, the goodbyes, the great-to meetchayas, and the everyone goes their own way. It feels a bit like drive-by friendship. Although, like the others I suppose, it does feel good to be back home.

Never before had a dog with a built-in carry handle

He likes to run the tide line trying to catch himself a gull. Just once I wish he’d get one. He’s a young dog so who knows, maybe one day one of them birds gets a little complacent, misjudges the dog’s distance or speed, lifts off a bit too late…who can say for sure.

Moving up the food chain