Another wildly successful adventure is almost in the books. We're sitting in the airport (air conditioned) in a soft little corner thinking about making out. Our Lyft driver, Melissa, sprinkled us with soft rhythm and blues music all the way to the airport. If I had no propriety at all, I might have snuggled bugged all the way with my Bunny, and even through these covid masks it would be worth it. But alas, not a quiet corner to be found in this busy airport. I slept fitfully last night, partly due to the excitement of ending another trip, partly because of the heat, and partly because that's my world now. Fitful sleep in snips and snatches seems to be the new normal. I wake up fairly refreshed, but my watch rarely records a sleep duration of over three hours; mostly I get close to two hours, experience a break of 2-5 minutes-repeat. I also dream quite vividly, and who knows what subliminal depths these visions come from. Last night, tennis legend John McEnroe served, did a split step, rolled his ankle, and screamed, "You've got to be kidding!" I rushed from the stands to provide therapy: ankle wrap, ice, and a cold massage. He was able to get up and finish the match victoriously. I can't tell you what inspired that dream. At breakfast, the Wiley Cager continued her unusually successful run. I'm now down well over six dollars for the month. With eight days left, I think it's likely I'll be springing for the coffee and some very exotic sweet treat at the Rockwood Bakery. So it goes, but it's an uncomfortable position to find myself in. After breakfast, we took a five mile walk around the town of Boulder City. Quite pleasant and historic. It's amazing to think that between 1931-1936, the workers on the dam lived in tents, both through the blazing heat of the summer and the interminable cold of the winter. After our walk, we closed up the trailer and drove the thirty miles to the storage center. We put Frac away with ease, got a fabulous recommendation for lunch from Angie, the manager, and drove to this very compact strip mall where a tiny place called Los Antojos is located. We ordered Mole enchiladas and a coke. It was simply fabulous, and there's no way we'd ever have found the place without Angie's recommendation. We'll hang out in the airport until our plane leaves, and sit back on the flight, grateful that life is good, especially today.
I tucked Frac in B-89 with a first try perfect arc. Quite happy about that. The yellow Mercedes next to us is the property of a German couple who had planned on visiting the states a year and a half ago. They were very nice, very excited to be in America, and planned to visit Utah before heading to Mexico for the winter.Boulder City is replete with metal sculpture.
My Bunny perusing the menu.
Selfie of the day: Frac tucked neatly in his spot after a ten day trip covering @2,200 miles. Highlights included dinner with cousins in Provo, a stroll around Helper, Utah where my mom's family lived for a few years, a train ride up Cumbres Pass out of Chama, New Mexico, a return to Cafe Pasqual in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and lunch today. What an adventure!
Good morning, Nevada.
This guy, a little reminiscent of the Spys in Mad comic books, caught my eye.
Live to ride!
Holy Mole this was good!
Everybody is a star, no matter who you are.