duck-shaped pain

The drive over yesterday was uneventful, which is how drives over the mountains should be. Amazingly for this time of year, there was barely any snow. There were little piles of here and there on top of Eisenhower, but that was it. This is the sort of thing that could chance at any minute, though. October through March of any given year is an unsure time for those seeking to drive from one end of the state to the other. Weather is iffy, roads could be completely shut off, and you could find yourself stranded in some little town, downing one drink after another at a seedy bar while someone tries to sell you some tire chains at a "special storm price" of $50 each.

No such thing happened to me, though. I drove and eventually I stopped driving. The place where I stopped driving was where I wanted to be, not where I could go no further.

The only thing I could think about eating when I got here was fish tacos. Not sure why. But I made sure to do something about it.

(Unrelated to Denver, but because people have asked, the dates that I'm going to be in NYC are November 14th through the 18th....)

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