Crappy's: Where we'll ring it in.After work tomorrow we'll pile into the zoomzoom and head off to the frozen tundra of Northern Illinois. 509 miles and 8 1/2 ish hours later we should be pulling in. Nothing like spending eight hours in a car. Some day I'll have my dream car: one where I can cook a pizza while driving, pull into dad's driveway and not have to unpack, the bikes can ride inside, and the pups have room to run. Until then I'll settle for fuel efficiency and cruise control.
Updates throughout the weekend will most likely be more irregular than the regularly irregularity that is, or was, whichever the case may be. In the meantime for e-tertainment you can follow the drama of "I'm going out and doing it all on my own with the help of all these people" boy. Or witness the unraveling of the raveled Canardian Empire as he is baffle-y beaten by toys for tots. I'd link to others, but it appears the others I generally read, or read, are more irregular than I, or me.
To the Moots/Swiftwick/Yazoo crew heading to Snake, have a grand time. Remember the true winner is decided by pre-race alcohol consumption + race finish time + post-race alcohol consumption multiplied by being the last one to bed and last one standing, notwithstanding. Extra credit awarded to anything done untowardsly untoward towards Dickman. Party on.
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