the religion is the same,
but the pilgrims vary.
August 19, 2017
After a night of varying accommodations, by means of varying transportation's, everyone after breakfast is breaking camp and heading east to the town of John Day.
One of the larger and better serviced places in central Oregon that the solar eclipse's path of totality will cross.
High Plains Highway Lane drifter.
On route coming in the opposite direction was this friendly, as most cycle tourists are, fellow that admitted that his fuel of weed and whiskey was causing some self doubt of where he was, physically and perhaps spiritually.
I had no reason to doubt his claim after we, I, determined and convinced him that he was going in the wrong direction to his intended goal of Idaho and beyond.
We also determined that his whiskey diet was working,
he already lost three days.
We also determined that his whiskey diet was working,
he already lost three days.
After queering him if he was the one who created all the smoke in the forests of my past and much to his horror when John and Carol happened past and graciously topped up his bottle to an unacceptable "mix" of purifying the water, that we both pointed towards John Day and rode off.
To my concern and cautious comments, he in any number of combinations of lanes and shoulders.
We did later rendezvous down the road and at that point he was still, other than the skin missing from his nose, sans duct tape, was in one piece.
John Day will be the base for Carol, John and a throng of others for the viewing of the eclipse.
Here we share a meal with said such folks, including a trio from just up the road from our cottage, Sudbury, Ontario. Canada.
With a Laurention University exchange student from China in hand, they've come retro with the iconic "Boler" in tow.
(This photo I remember clearly and fondly. It was just before I asked Carol if she was going to eat her garlic bread!. Much to my excitement, she said....................NO!)
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