I'm getting to the point where I almost can't stand it. I definitely have exactly the same feeling as a kid before Christmas when the kid just knows he's getting something he/she really wanted.
I've packed and repacked the saddlebag full of tools, duct tape, bailing wire, and a few parts.
I'm writing notes to myself to remember to fill that spare gas container.
I can't begin to tell you how many times I've remapped the route, and especially the last day through the Badlands Park.
I've worn out the hotel sites revising reservations for the trip out. First I was leaving Saturday, then Friday, then Saturday, and now ?????
And this weekend, I'm going to start laying out all the clothes I'm going to pack. Once that's done, I'm screwed...there won't be a damn thing left to do but watch the fucking calendar!
I have been passing some idle time rebuilding old blog posts that lost all the photos, so at least that seems constructive. (I may even be halfway done!)
I'm even sportin' a new, pre-Sturgis tattoo that I've been wanting. Becky & Fred convinced me to get it here, rather than in Sturgis. They said if I got it out there, my arm would fall off. And that F'n Fred said getting the tat on the inside of my arm wouldn't hurt. Fred lies.
And one of these days, maybe Donna will come over and hang out! Where the hell is Donna, anyway?!?!?! I'm dating a beach bunny who sends me photos from seaside saying "Wish you were here!"
OK, nuff whining. In 10 days from right this minute, I'll be about 500 miles from DC and loving every mile of the Interstate. Even if it's raining and miserable-hot. I think.