Dear Gentle Readers, Sometimes your protagonist feels like an idiot. I say things that maybe I shouldn't say; I do things I shouldn't do. We all know the drill. Well, here's my dilemma: Those of you who know me know that I had a twenty-something love affair with the hippie lettuce... the tree... the cloud. And, frankly, I don't regret it (too much) because it helped shape who I am (figuratively NOT literally... for that I blame ice cream). But I have difficulties with my past. Namely, I lived in a fog and tuned the world and my life out. It was my own choosing. And there are consequences because of it. It has been a difficult readjustment to all the wonderful things life has to offer and one thing above all scares me to death. And that is attempting to form a relationship with someone. Frankly, I don't know what to do... I'm still a seventeen year old asking myself, " Should I try and hold her hand? Should kiss her goodbye?" It's dumb but honestly I am 47 years old and I don't know what I should do. I've met a wonderful person and I can't do any better than, "Um, so um would you um like to get together again?" [Speaker has puppy-eyes laced with fear]. "We'll work on that," says she who has captured my tiny heart. What, dear readers, am I to do? The problem is I don't know what's normal and I don't watch too many sappy movies (especially if Julia Roberts is in them)! So I'm clueless. I don't want to stay dumb... I want some "whatever" to happen to me.

Greetings Sports Fans,

Tonight was another semi-pro football game. The final score was 9 to 7. There were only two ejections and the game was basically lost for the visitors after a stupid 15-yard dead ball penalty on fourth down that helped the winning team maintain possession of the football. Half the losing team wanted to kick the crap out of the guy! It was funny. There were numerous scuffles between the two teams.... they knew each other. I'm sure that afterwards they all went and drank beer and smoked the hippie lettuce together.

I wasn't sure I was even going to make it to the game. I went and had coffee with Don this afternoon. (He also put a smoother nib on my fountain pen). On the way over to his house the water pump went out in Amos (my 1987 Bronco II). He labored on home and I was able to get the last rental in town apparently. Why everyone chose this weekend to rent a car was a mystery to just about everyone. I knew the reason why I needed one though. So half my game fee went to the car rental for the day.

Tomorrow I'm meeting Debra for breakfast and then were going on a hike. It should be great fun. The weather will be warm and the company will be excellent.

Greetings! Is anyone out there reading the dull life I live? Comments are few and far between.

I did nothing today. Quite an accomplishment for a lay-about such as yours truly. Well, I did clean the apartment a little... and washed some dishes. Phewwww, if THAT don't take it out of ya.

Tomorrow I've got a football game. I'm looking forward to it. The last one was a blast. Hopefully, this one will be just as exciting. It's supposed to be 85 degrees at kick-off.

I'm meeting Don A. and his wife Tricia for coffee tomorrow. I met Don one day while I was parking my BMW next to his Honda. We hit it off and now we get together every once in awhile. He is into fountain pens. He's got quite an impressive collection of them. I bought a throw-away from him and I love it. It adds a certain panache to bill paying.

Greetings my friends. Here is a photo I made along my journey to SF. It's California Highway 211 (or is it CA 233?) and it runs from Ferndale to South fork. It's a major detour taking three times as long as going on US 101 but well worth it. The road was a little beat to hell but the views (and turns) were awesome. First you go up and over the Rainbow Ridge (this image is just beyond the summit) in route to Petrolia. The nine or ten miles along the coast were extremely beautiful. Petrolia was where the first oil was drilled in California but the pocket dried up quickly. Now it's a semi-ghost town. But apparently there's a vault with golden CD's (not to be confused with Golden Tablets!) that store L. Ron Hubbard's writings. Interesting. If I'd had known the place existed, I would have joined Tom Cruise for dinner. Instead, I meandered through the Humboldt Redwoods enjoying the twisty roads until I found a good place to camp. After setting up the tent at Richardson Grove State park, I went to the local store for some Ramen noodles and OJ.

Steve picked up Heidi today. We laughed at how everything goes in slow motion when you're about ready to crash and then speeds up with the crash. He said the bike didn't look too bad. The forks appear to be okay and the exhaust system is still in one piece. So maybe it won't be too bad on the wallet.

I spent the rest of the day doing load after load of laundry. But tonight I've got clean sheets to sleep in as the temperatures begin to drop into the high-80's.

Greetings Friends.

Tomorrow Heidi is going into the shop for a little repair work. Steve called today and said he'll be here around 0900 to pick her up. I hope it doesn't cost an arm and a leg but that's what I'm expecting.

I haven't seen Kyle since I've been back. His foster parents are out of town because of a death in the family. Kyle is still around but I don't know where exactly. He hasn't called so what do you do? They're all heading up to Seattle on Friday. They have tickets to the M's game on Saturday. Dad was able to score them some tickets and since I'm Kyle's "big brother" the franchise is hooking him up with some merchandise in addition to the tickets. They should have some fun.

I talked with Dick today. I told him something had come up and could I get out of scorekeeping. He said it wasn't a big deal... that they had it covered anyway. He just thought it would have been fun for me. Perhaps. But the idea of hiking through the woods with Debra sounds like a heck of a lot more fun to me.

The people at Meals-on-Wheels are moving me back to my old route. I was just getting to know the new people and now I'm being moved back. That's fine with me... my old route is easier and it finishes up right next to my apartment complex.

That's about it for excitement here in the city that's always asleep. Toodles.

Howdy Y'all. It is pretty hot here in our precious valley. It reached 96 degrees here... very uncommon. It was thirty degrees cooler on the coast.

My mechanic, Steve, called this morning to check up on me and Heidi. He's going to try and get down here sometime this week to pick her up. Jeff usually helps me but I think he's a little mad at me for having to drive five hours and sleep in his truck before helping me get back home. Can't say I blame him. I am dreading how much it's going to cost to get Heidi back on the road. But she's my main transportation so the work must be done. I have a Bronco II but it has 230K on it. The engine is reliable but Amos leaks fluids like you'd expect any old codger to do.

So I am supposed to go on a hike with Debra this Sunday. We made the date then I started thinking.... ain't I supposed to keep score for some American Legion baseball games for Dick S.? Now I'm in the proverbial pickle. I'd much rather go on the hike but I sort have already committed to Dick. I'll need to call him tomorrow and see if I can get out of it. Otherwise, I might be able to go on a short date with Debra before my football game on Saturday.

Not much else to report, really. My friend Jon interviewed for a teaching position today and has an other interview on Thursday. I hope he gets one of them! I know how frustrating it can be to be in the hunt and fall a little bit short.

Jon told me yesterday that the woman who is hiring for one of the jobs is disappointed I didn't apply for the job. That totally amazed me because she has n't had word one to say to me since we met. I think that she thinks that I'm an idiot who doesn't no the first thing about photography let alone teaching. She's a "player" in the photography organization I belong to too. I'm not renewing next year. I've become disillusioned with the organization and all it has to offer. (Which, from what I can see, is nothing). I'll invest in photo books and supplies instead.

Speaking of books, my good friend and purveyor of fine photographic books, Tim, has sent me a care package of remainders. I'm particularly interest in one called Illuminations, Women Writing on Photography from the 1850's to the Present. I expect to be an interesting perspective on photography. Most photo history seems to be male driven so this book should offer a different perspective on the medium. There's essays by some famous photographers that I'm looking forward to reading. Since photography has become an art dominated by women, I suppose it's about time I play a little catch-up.

Good Day. Here's a SF story for you: I was on my way back to the Willamette Valley and home. I had reached Grants Pass and had to decide whether to ride up the freeway and call it a trip or head up near Crater Lake along the Rogue River and make a few more images. I sided with the scenic route which should come as no surprise to my dear friends. So I'm between Prospect and Union Creek traveling about 70 miles per hour when Ka-Powie! My rear tire blows out! I swear left and right for a while and final crash. The whole thing was happening in slow motion... it was weird. But I final lost it and down I went. Heidi (my 1978 BMW) took the worst of it. I skidded about thirty yards on my butt. The bike went about fifty. I was okay, the bike sustained some damage to the fairing and one of the side bags. The valve covers on both sides are banged up and the rear wheel is a total loss. The jeans I was wearing are shreds but I only have a silver dollar-sized raspberry on my left butt cheek. There was a car approaching from the other direction and they immediately stopped to help. They gave me some bottled water and took me to a pay phone to get some assistance. I couldn't get anyone to tow me to Medford so I had to call my friend (and former landlord) Jeff and ask if he'd come and get me and my bike. Now mind you, it was 6:30 pm and it's a 5 hour drive from his current residence in Willamina. But he said he'd leave right away. Well, 11:30 rolls around and no Jeff. At 2 o'clock I give up and set my tent up to get a little sleep. The following morning, John (a brother-in-law of the camp host) takes me to my bike to see if the Oregon State Patrol has been by. They haven't but Jeff is there. He's been there all night wondering where I was. Of course, we have become so spoiled by being able to call on our cell phones we haven't made good enough arrangements to meet each other and he had spent the night sleeping in his truck. So we load the bike and head for home. I am grateful to my Guardian Angel who, once again, has had to work overtime to keep me safe.

I'm back. Greeting citizens, after a few days gone south I am back to my blog. San Francisco was excellent. Stacey (pictured) took good care of me while Debra let me use her apartment as my own personal studio. It was a cozy set-up and very much appreciated. On the way down I was able to photograph Paul Bunyan and rocks... lots of rocks. And waves too. I had to retrieve my helmet after it went over a 150 foot cliff. (That was great fun). I also made some more anti-graffiti images and ate lots of mango gelato in North Beach. And I walked and walked. Miles! Uphill, no less. But I must say I enjoyed every minute. I found a woman's wallet in the street too! It was loaded with cash and about seven hundred credit cards. We took it to two policemen who were sitting down to lunch. I said, "I found a wallet." The cop says, "We're getting ready to eat lunch." I said what am I supposed to do? Take the money out and throw the wallet away?" The cop says, "We'll take it." Now THAT'S justice in action! That's enough for now.

Hello loyal fans. Today was trip preparation day: do the laundry, figure out which clothes to bring, fill up the bike with gas, and track down camera gear. I'm getting ready to stuff everything into the correct bag so that I can get out of here after a couple of cups of coffee. I am so ready to make this trip and do some camping. So there won't be any blogging for a couple of weeks. But don't despair! Look at it this way: I should return with something better than flower pictures. I'm thinking cats... or maybe a series of nude self-portraits. Or trees. No, no.... the ocean! I'll shoot all the glory of the Pacific Ocean. (Maybe with some cats thrown in for good measure). But no flowers. I promise.

I was a volunteer today at the Salem Arts & Crafts Fair. I flipped burgers for 5 hours. But it was worth it. I had a lot of fun and met a new friend... she's a girl! I think we enjoyed each other's company. I know I enjoyed hers. We exchanged numbers and I told her I'd call her in a couple weeks. I asked her if she thought she'd be able to remember me. She felt pretty confident that she would. Sweet!

Full day today! Breakfast with the pancake Nazi to get things rolling. Followed by photographs in the creepiest mausoleum I've ever been in! (Not that I've make a habit of visiting mausoleums). Saw an awesome photo show of a collector's work. He had a William Christenberry print that I adore !!! I also met a photo instructor there. What a fluke! Two people at the end of the day checking out the work... and we know each other. It was fun. We gossiped for a while and talked about the different directions photography (and photographers, particularly student photographers) are heading these days.

Then I went to an opening where a good friends work was being shown. It was a good show with a wide range of different work. Afterwards we partied like it was 1949.

Good Day. Well, fellow citizens, the news is enough to drive this ol' soldier out of town and away from the blogs, the spin doktors and everyone else with a take on Carl Rove. Personally, I think it was a political assignation naming "Mrs. Wilson," though the Republicans would tell you that is not naming names. And they gave Clinton the business about fucking some groupie. Some things never cease to amaze me.

On a more domestic note, I thought I'd try making some pretty pictures of flowers with my $900 pinhole camera (aka D-70 with a pinhole cap). I have a bellows attachment from my Nikon F1. Guess what. It won't attach because the battery compartment interferes with the coupling. Does that make any sense? Is anyone out there anyway? So I can't adjust the focal length of the pinhole without going out and buying some extension tubes. Harsh realities. There's another big handicap to shooting digital pinholes I'm beginning to realize. Namely, the dust shows up more prominently than if you use a lens. I have no real explanation but I suspect it has something to do with the softness of the image and the fact that the dust rests on the low-pass filter. It isn't a major issue but it is a little more time spent using the band-aide tool than I'd like to be doing. So I get to my location... ready to shoot and lo & behold here comes Grandmother Wind blowing all up in my grill, yo! Wind is not conducive to quality pinhole photos since the exposure times were running 15-20 seconds. So I only made a few; this is the best of the bunch, I suppose.

Tomorrow, I'm checking out the facilities at Newspace Gallery to make sure there are no surprises when I give my workshop on August 13th. I think I'm meeting Newton at The Original Hotcake and Steak House (not to be confused with The Original Pancake House). It's a total greasy-spoon with the best omelettes. Maybe I'll make some pics afterwards. You never know.

I was talking to my friend, Mark N., today. He just bought an Agfa Clack so he could make large enough negatives to do some contact printing. He wants to make some cyanotypes and wants to do it "old-school". So, I was checking up on him, seeing how his test roll turned out. He was very happy with the results. Then we started talking about driving by things we want to photograph and never do... to little light, too much light, wrong direction, to wasted on barbiturates... you get the idea. Anyway, there's this restaurant near Fort Lewis, Washington that touts $1 Chinese food. (Sounds delicious, doesn't it)? So Mark mentions he has driven by this place more than once and is always in too much of a hurry to get home to photograph it. I said you better hurry up and shoot it. It might be gone one of these days. That's the way it goes... you snooze, you lose. God knows it has happened to me on more than one occasion. Here's one I got before it was destroyed. (Eyes left)

It was on a guy's garage... now it's not. Must have got married!

So I was supposed to chaperone a putt-putt event staged for the troubled youth today. ("Be there at noon.") I get to the place we were supposed to meet ( at least, where I think we're supposed to met and, guess what!, nobody's there. So i ride around looking for trouble kids but all I see are oldsters with Parkinson disease having a picnic. I scoot over to the putt-putt course and no troubled youth there either. So I went home. Nobody called to alert me unchaperoned hooligans had taken over the city so I guess all is still well in our boring little city.

I went and bought a mess kit for my journey this weekend. It's east to have too much crap on a motorcycle. And this is the first time I'm cooking so I wanted to keep the cooking supplies to a minimum: single-burner propane stove, mess kit & silverware, Melitta coffee maker and filters, salt and pepper, pot holder, sponge and soap. Should do the trick.

As for camera gear... I'll be loaded to the gills! More than enough to get from A to B and back.

So this morning I had to go to an orientation meeting for my work with Catholic Community Services. I learned that I can't tell stories, sexually harass anyone or spank Kyle. I guess that's good to know. Kyle started working today. They were impressed with his abilities and moved him a rung up the ladder. (Yea! Kyle).

I rode my Beemer out to Scio..."Covered Bridge Capital of the West"...to do (what else?) photograph covered bridges. I was looking for something nostalgic to photograph with one of my pinhole cameras. It's an old Kodak 1A that I "Frankensteined". I like it. It's fairly light, has a viewfinder that gives me a good idea what I'm composing and shoots film. I get eight frames which means I can get three or four scenes on a roll with some bracketing to ensure success. I stopped in Scio for a sandwich and juice to eat at the Larwood Bridge (Built in 1939). The weather was nice and warm, the sandwich was tasty and I had a good ride.

When I got home I worked on some crap around the house, cleaned up a little and went to the Asian grocery store to buy some Kim Chee. Then I made some rice and grilled a teriyaki pork tenderloin. Yummy. I figure if I am going to be eating soup for a few days while I'm camping might as well make something nice.

I'm trying to figure out how much camera gear I can bring on my trip. When I rode my bike back to Maine I had a Diana and a pinhole camera. This trip I am hoping to take a 4x5 and a digital camera too. The D-70 fits nicely in my tank bag which makes it east to get to. I have a waterproof duffel bag the (I think) will hold my 4x5 and tripod as well as a tripod and my cooking gear. Last trip, I had way too much stuff I didn't even use. It'll be fun times. I need a break. All this unemployment has me looking forward to a vacation! Ha! Every day is a vacation for Marky-poo.

Greetings Citizens. Today the M's completed a sweep of the Angels. Simply amazing. Now they're only 12 games behind. Think they got a chance?

After the game, I went for a motorcycle ride and made a few pictures. I had been waiting for Kyle to call so we could go do something but he never did. Either something happened at his foster home or he spaced me out. So I went solo.

I started out making some flower pictures at Bush Park. There are a million rose bushes there. Well, maybe not a million but a lot... gobs, I say. So anyway, I busted off a few frames and then took off to Independence. There's an old pioneer cemetery there and I thought I'd make a few pinhole images to show for examples at a workshop I'm giving next month. When I got to the cemetery I really didn't feel like shooting anything. I just sort of ambled around reading the tombstones. After a while I decided to call Bart & Rita in Rhode Island. They, as well as anybody, realize my potential as a teacher of photography. More importantly, they know my devotion to the medium and my desire to pass that devotion along to others. So we talked about the state of Photography these days. We laughed at how we are perceived as dinosaurs in a medium that seems to change daily. Forty-five minutes later we said our goodbyes. Bart & Rita are very good to me. They sooth me when I'm distraught over the "teaching situation". And they are always big fans of my more serious work. I am always amazed at how Bart can identify threads going through my images that I don't fully see. He's able to elucidate things that are cloudy in my mind but present in my work. He's truly someone who has helped me grow as a photographer. Probably more than he knows.

When we finished talking, I finished my ride. The roads were twisty and there was little traffic. I seemed to be able to get on a good line for every corner. And that, dear friends, makes the ride most enjoyable.

Tomorrow I have to go to some orientation-thingy for Catholic community Services. I sure it will be excessively boring. With luck, coffee will be served.

Went for a nice little ride today and found this little protest. it reminded me of a guy in Maine who would put a little orange flag in his yard for each soldier killed. ! 750 is an insane number and you know damned good and well that it ain't no politicians son (to steal a line) over there getting shot at. If W's little girls had to be over in Iraq fighting his silly little war chances are there wouldn't be a war at all.

I'm not too chatty this evening, so I'll let the image speak for itself.

Good day! I'm listening to the Mariners right now. They jumped out to a big lead with Randy Winn hitting a "Grand Salami" (Get out the rye bread and mustard grandma)! But now they're trying to give the game back.

I talked to my friend Tim W., who lives in Maine, today. We talked about photo books and gossiped for awhile. He was telling me the first session of work-study ended and the images the students made were crap. I guess more than one person commented that the work my students made last year was vastly superior to what they saw last weekend. People kept saying, "Isn't this the class Mark taught last summer? The work looks like it's from a week long workshop." Well, thanks for all the great comments but that and $4 gets you a quad mocha at Starbucks. It's flattering to know that people know that I am capable of getting the best out of people... photographically speaking of course. But it becomes all the more frustrating knowing that no one is willing to gamble on me as a full time teacher. I got my quirks (no doubt about that!) but I know what I'm doing when it comes to teaching people how to be a photographer. I just missed getting a job in Boston last Fall and I was a close second for a position at PCC. Still everyone seems to be just a little bit better than me... at least on paper. I get my results in the classroom but few people realize it.

There's a job being offered in Ellensburg, Washington for next Fall. I want to apply for it and probably will but I KNOW it's a waste of time. I'm fairly certain that they know who they want for the position. (You, gentle readers know who it is too). They just have to go through the motions to make everything all correct and proper. It's fucking annoying. If they want to hire someone they should just hire them instead of putting people through this ridiculous charade. But what's a boy to do? Give up? Did we give up when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor....? So I'll send my packet in. And collect one more letter...."There were many qualified candidates. Unfortunately, you weren't one of them. Maybe you should try getting a job flipping burgers!" I'd rather jump off a bridge. I didn't get a MFA to flip burgers. I got it so I could teach photography and I'll be damned if it ain't going to happen... one of these days.

Sweet Salvation! I had feared the worst but I was saved the torment of eternal frustration thanks to you-know-Who. I had gone against Nikon's good judgment and decided to clean the low-pass filter on my D-70 by myself. Daring, I know but I'm a rebel like that. Anyway, I did it before my trip and imagine my horror when I uploaded my images and saw streak marks on every single image... all one hundred-plus of them! I was freaking out. I mean how much does a low-pass filter cost anyways? One million dollars? I don't know and I don't want to know! So I called the guy that makes the cleaning stuff and he told me to get back in there and scrub... not too hard and not too soft. So I Goldilocks my way through six or seven cleaning pads and managed to remove my prior sins, er mistakes. Whew! What a relief.

Todays image is one of the dirty images I was able to resurrect after an hour with the clone tool and magic band-aid. There were four scenes of Jesus' life painted on oil tanks in Long Beach, Washington, which is also home to the World's largest frying pan.

I read an interesting article in LensWork tonight. It had to do with people who go out and photograph together. It immediately reminded me of two of my friends Jon and Darren ( http://www.darrenclarkphoto.net/blog/ ). They shoot together frequently. I'll leave it at that because I know Darren looks at this sight every once-in-a-while. When I was in Maine at the MPW, I used to go shooting with a fellow classmate, Lyssa P.. We enjoyed the same haunts but our work wasn't even close to similar. People were always amazed that such different work could come from the same location. I remember us always thinking that was funny. I mean nobody sees the world through the same set of eyeballs and our life's experiences influence our perception. Even if we stood in the same spot, I doubt very much if our images would look the same. Back in the good ol' days, when I was teaching, I would make my students all photograph the same thing... shoot a whole roll of the same thing, to boot! They were always amazed, as was yours truly, at the different ways one subject could be approached. That's a lesson for you to have Darren. Make your kids go to Driggs and photograph the Spud Drive-in. If they do it in the Fall before they close down, they can also enjoy a Gladys burger!

Hello Gentle Readers. At least one of you was able to say "hippopotamus" before I returned. To you anonymous reader, I say "Well done. Well done, indeed."

My trip to the Jet City, or should I say Emerald City?, was fine. I stayed east going up... through the foothills of the Cascades. I made a few pictures along the way, including this 20-foot high tepee. I also stopped to photograph a church in Elbe, Washington and was "lucky" enough to be serenaded by a bunch of drunks signing karaoke. It was enough to make you cry. I made it Mom and Dad's after about eight hours on the road. Not bad considering the trip along the freeway takes less than four hours!

The morning after I arrived I met a friend and fellow photographer, Sabrina R.. We went out shooting and shot the s*&$ along the way. It was great to catch up with her. She's another of a long line of photographers that has passed through the Maine Photographic Workshops. We did the Work-Study program in 1997. (Where do the years go)?

The next morning, I showed off my culinary skills and made a German Pancake for the folks. Needless to say, they were impressed. After that I met an old college chum from Wazzu. I hadn't see Psycho Dave in years! The stories I could tell! Like the time I rolled LeCar coming back from Lewiston and then we stopped to pick up a rabid fox lying in the middle of the road. Or the time we watched him set fireworks off in this guy's apartment he didn't like.... twice! And that just scratches the surface. Now he's a nice boy.... married to a loving wife. And he takes care of his two adorable children. I guess a good woman can affect you like that. I doubt if I'll ever know for sure.

My Grandma died on the Fourth of July. I stayed close to home. And let the fireworks remind me of what a wonderful person she was. Pall Mall's killed her when I was 13. Dad can tell the best stories about her but he didn't tell any this day. Me and Mom went for a little walk in the evening after it had cooled down a little. We gossiped like we always do. And had a couple of good belly laughs. I'll miss her when she's gone.

I took the ocean route coming home... it only took me nine hours. But the trip was relaxing and I made a few crappy seascapes along the way.

Today my boss at M-O-W gave me a new route. Some other old codger was complaining about the route being too long. (Boo-hoo)! So they moved me to his route apparently because my route is the easiest. Well not any more. I'm going to miss Amon. He's a great ol' guy. He grew up here and tells interesting stories. I hope the new guy enjoys him as much as I do.

After doing my route, I got a new front tire on the BMW. My mechanics are a riot. But it cost me an arm & leg every time I go there!

From there I went and visited the foster dad of the kid I mentor. My Dad was able to score them some M's tickets for a game against the Indians. Jake was happy to get them. We talked about Kyle for awhile before I rode off into the sunset. I need to mat a picture Kyle made tomorrow come to think of it.

Finally, condolences are in order for my friend Jack. His Dad died on the third.

Just believe. That was a central theme in Finding Neverland. What a wonderful movie. It's about failure and rising above it. About tragedy and being stronger because of it. And it is about remaining a child in a grown up world.

Given my current state of affairs, I probably couldn't have seen this flick at a better time. Thank God nobody was around to see me when I turned the faucets on at the end. Actually, I wish I had someone around to see me in that state (and others) but that's for another time.

On a more domestic note, I changed the oil and adjusted the valves on my motorcycle today. It's always a nervous time when I press the starter switch... hoping for the best and expecting the worse. But Heidi fired right up. I celebrated my mechanical proficiency by partaking in some mango sorbet.

Tomorrow, I may ride up to Seattle. So for all of my fans in Neverland, if there isn't a posting for a few days, fear not. I'll be back before you can say hippopotamus.