Southern Illinois, passing through.
Heading West. Breakfast, Indiana. Coal mines. America.
Sunday Morning, meander down to just outside Louisville, to stay with my old friend, Chuck. Blossoms bursting and panfish biting. Life is good.
After staying the night in Canandaigua, braved the rain by taking cover at the Eastman House. George Eastman is an inspiration, not just for his impact on Photography, but also for the way he lived his life. The lady at the front desk had a wonderful pair of spectacles.
Tired from skiing, Google Maps sent me skittering over dirt roads through the mountains of Vermont and down to the shores of Lake Champlain. Across the plain, the Adirondacks.
Don was working on the desk at Stowe when I rolled up with my Mammoth season pass, expecting a fat discount. WRONG!. An hour and a half later, two calls to Mammoth and one call to a supervisor, Don got me a half price lift ticket. Thank you Don. You were a cool dude to interact with. As for the skiing at Stowe? Meh… blind hurtling on crusty crud up high, wet and grabby down low. I racked up some reps and moved on.