Sunday, September 7, 2014

Iron Horse, up and down

I like signs that are shot up. It's the rural equivalent of tagging. 
The 20 miles up took two hours. The 20 miles down took a little more than an hour. When mr q and I rode it in June, it took us four hours. We were loaded, though, both with gear and victuals as well as Fireball brand cinnamon whiskey liquor.  
While shivering through the 2.something mile long tunnel, heading toward the light, I had this thought: hell is not a burning coal field of fire, it is a freezing cold tomb. 
This is a picture of the sky. Couldn't ask for a nicer day. The shade was cool, and the sun was warm as a campfire. 
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on
From the u-pick blueberry fields of North Bend. Did Agent Cooper just eat cherry pie? Did he ever try the blueberries? I ate about as much as I bought. I reminded myself of a hungry bear. 

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