2018--day 12
Saturday, 2 June 2018
To quote Bill Murray (guess the movie): slept late, felt great! No wine nor women, sadly. We left Lincoln around noon in search of vittles, this time in the form of what America runs on. Surprisingly, the breakfast sandwiches hit the spot. Thank God, as I was within 30 seconds of eating my own arm.
Travels today took us to I29, a new highway and two new states: Iowa (#15) and then Missouri (#16, the last). Our travels took us to Columbia, where we explored Rock Bridge Memorial State Park with an old and dear friend, Dr. Pat Market. We stuck our heads in the Devil's Icebox, but found nothing worth eating. Instead, we ate real barbecue at a local dive, where after being an indirect vegetarian for the better part of two weeks the salad was simply sublime. Then again, so were the ribs.
After chow we continued east on I70 for my adopted hometown of St. Louis, our bivouac for the night. 432 miles for the day. Toodle-oo.
To quote Bill Murray (guess the movie): slept late, felt great! No wine nor women, sadly. We left Lincoln around noon in search of vittles, this time in the form of what America runs on. Surprisingly, the breakfast sandwiches hit the spot. Thank God, as I was within 30 seconds of eating my own arm.
Travels today took us to I29, a new highway and two new states: Iowa (#15) and then Missouri (#16, the last). Our travels took us to Columbia, where we explored Rock Bridge Memorial State Park with an old and dear friend, Dr. Pat Market. We stuck our heads in the Devil's Icebox, but found nothing worth eating. Instead, we ate real barbecue at a local dive, where after being an indirect vegetarian for the better part of two weeks the salad was simply sublime. Then again, so were the ribs.
After chow we continued east on I70 for my adopted hometown of St. Louis, our bivouac for the night. 432 miles for the day. Toodle-oo.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home