Day 10
Canyon Creek to Golden
Monday July 3, 2006
Distance 116 km
Temperature 36 degrees
Today was another tough one; I thought I could be limited to only one psychological toughie per week, but says who?
When we started the ride climbing this morning, I knew I was in for a killer ride, since my legs felt like two cement blocks attached to my body and did not want to cooperate with the day’s planned activities, which included a lot of climbing since we’re now in the mountains around Roger’s Pass.
Try as I might, I could not get them to go; my energy was just not there, as my leg engines lay dormant-the past few days have included a lot of climbing (measured on someone’s altimeter between 900 and 1350 meters per day,) and my poor little legs haven’t had time to recover, so are quite sore.
So when we set out this morning, they said, “You’ve got to be kidding me, we ‘aint doing this again, no way-leave us alone.”
What to do when you’re setting out for a 115 km ride, mostly uphill into the mountains, and your body is in mutiny?
Here is where the psychological game comes in; what can you tell yourself to get through the day?
I am a mere mortal; an average person, of average physical capabilities, doing something that calls for mental and physical toughness beyond of what I know I can produce; something that is out of the ordinary-how can I overcome this challenge?
These were all the questions chugging through my mind as I puffed and snorted my way up the first hill of the morning, at 7:30 am, with 115 km of steeper and longer climbs up ahead.
At first I went into a bit of a mental panic, wondering how would I make it to the truck, where all my stuff that makes me feel human again was-I needed to get there, feeling much like a homing pigeon must when their owners drive them to far and distant lands and set them loose, expecting them to fly over distances to reach their homes once again.
What could I tell myself to get through this?
In the past at times like this, when I have felt overwhelmed by the ride, for some strange reason, I have Steve Erwin’s voice from “The Crocodile Hunter” on TV run through my mind.
When trying to catch deadly venomous snakes, he says to the snakes, in his thick Ozzie drawl, “you’re all right mate, you’re all right.”
He’s obviously saying it more to himself to remain calm than to the reptiles, but he hasn’t been lethally bitten; maybe they also find his voice strangely calming, as it works for the snakes too.
Regardless, Steve’s voice runs through the tape in my mind, over and over again when I feel as if I am reaching my limit.
Today, in addition to Steve I had an imaginary (or was it?) conversation with my leg muscles:
Scene: Below deck on an old pirate ship, with all the little muscle fibers crammed beside each other, gripping one huge oar (same on the other side).
An old wizened pirate stands looming over them, as says with a harsh cockney accent:
“Arright you lazy goodfernuthing louts, start bloody rowin’ then.”
”Bugger off, we’re tired and want to rest-we need food!”
”You’ll rest when I bloody well tell you it’s time to rest; the job ain’t done yet until I say so-so quit your whinin’ and get crackin’.”
And so it went for a few kilometers. I can’t remember who won the argument, but the deck master must have, as here I sit in my tent.
The first half of the ride had us climbing to reach Roger’s Pass, a part of the mountains known for excellent back-country and heli-skiing, and major avalanches.
Once we reached the ‘summit’ (there were signs telling us so,) there was a lodge with history of the pass, with a movie of avalanches, which we watched.
It was shot in the 70’s so was pretty dated, but we heard from others there was a real rescue scene, which we fast forwarded to-I couldn’t help but feel slightly envious of the man who was trapped under the snow, as at least he looked cool surrounded by the snow. (He was saved).
We couldn’t believe how much snow it gets here-unreal. We can see snow still in the mountains, which is so bizarre, as it’s so hot here.
We also rode through quite a few snow tunnels, which have been especially constructed to save parts of the road from avalanches.
They were fun to ride through on our rapid descents.
The descents so far on the ride have been absolutely amazing-the descent into Kamloops was fantastically long and fast, the descent into the Okanogan equally exciting, but today the descent into Golden was just phenomenal as it just kept going and going.
We didn’t hit as high speeds, as we had quite a head wind, but it was exciting nonetheless.
My descent-o-meter bar has been raised; if I don’t hit at least 60 km/hour then I am not as impressed anymore.
The only thing is that I wasn’t pedaling on the descent today, so once I reached the bottom, the legs had shut down again, thinking it was bed-time.
What a rude awakening when I start pushing them again for another climb. (See conversation above.)
Lewis has been doing really well on the climbs, and is, as he likes to say, “a natural climber.”
He is at that, as I inch my way up, propelling myself upward slowly, he seems to glide up the hill effortlessly.
I tried not to curse him for the ease with which he did it.
Our camp sites so far have all been beside the railway line; we’re not sure why the organizer has arranged it this way, but it has.
Obviously land right beside the line is hard to sell, and is bought up by campsites knowing that out-of-towners are clueless, and will pay to camp.
Some camp sites have you a few hundred meters away, while this one has us practically on the tracks.
I can feel our tent rumble as it goes by.
At least we don’t have the Banging and Clanging Machines at work here all night like at the last rest day campsite in Merritt.
When I get into camp, the first thing I want to do is shower and return to human form. The showers at this ‘camp site’ were awful, so I and another woman decided to try our luck at the local rec centre swimming pool nearby.
We struck a deal with them to shower there-but it’s a swimming pool, so the showers are the open communal kind. It was jelly-tots, or tiny-tots swimming time, so the place was jumping with little kids-about 7 years and under.
The two of us strip down, and clamber into the shower area, not caring that everyone else is in their bathing suits and using the shower to ‘rinse’ before and after the pool.
We got in there and soaped up from head to toe, when suddenly the lifeguard came careening around the corner and barks at us to “get out of the showers, NOW.”
We’re both standing there starkers, full of soap, and stare at her; is she joking?
She repeats herself, more emphatically for us to hastily remove ourselves from the showers.
By this point all the little girls heard the commotion and came to gawk at these funny looking naked people with very strange tan lines.
Turns out that it was thundering and raining, and the showers were connected to the pool, which if hit could be lights out for us, so it was a liability thing.
We had to finish up our ‘shower’ in the sinks-at that point I realized that cycling had stripped me of all my sense of shame.
Tomorrow is a much needed rest day; I won’t be ordering the legs on deck for another 48 hours-hooray!
Tuesday, July 4, 2006
Day 9
Pritchard to Canyon Creek
Sunday July 2, 2006
Distance 128km
Temperature 36 degrees
“Mercury is in retrograde,” said my fellow TDC cyclist, looking at me expectedly, waiting for me to respond appropriately.
I returned her gaze with a blank one, “What?”
She said it again, perhaps thinking by repeating it I would understand the second time around, “Mercury is in retrograde,” she stated again.
My brain furiously processed this bit of information, clicking through its memory bank trying to locate any semblance of understanding, much like Windows performs a search, with the little magnifying glass moving in circles, and then, “search results: search is complete, there are no matches for this criteria.”
She may as well have said something like, “Uncle Jellyfish is a spoon-master.”
“I have no idea what that means,” I said to her, not sure if I should feel foolish for not knowing what it meant when it was said in the same one would ask someone to pass the salt.
“Oh, it means that on Tuesday there will be lots of accidents, flat tires, you know, that sort of thing….” she reported, in total seriousness.
I looked closely at her face, waiting to see if she’d follow it up with a wink, or smile. Nothing happened.
“Oh, then I guess we’ll have to be really careful, is there anything one can do to, um, fortify oneself against this retrogradeness of Mercury?” I asked, growing quite concerned all of a sudden.
“No, not really, if it’s going to happen, then it’s going to happen.”
And so went the typical kind of conversation that goes on around here-never a dull moment.
But, perhaps there is something to this Mercury in retrograde-thing, whatever it is, as today we had three flats (including Ms. Mercury-in-retrogade) and two other people broke spokes, which is quite rare.
Plus another member of the French contingent went down with an unknown bug, and did not ride today-last week another Frenchie went down with the bug-we’re all hoping it’s a French only bug, and will not cross over the lingual divide.
People are succumbing to all kinds of injuries, and we’re barely a week into the ride.
Achilles is a popular injury, followed closely by knees. Other irritations include rashes (sun, bugs, saddle) and your garden variety sun burn.
I didn’t write yesterday as I was too pooched after the ride; I’d had a tough day psychologically; I think the full reality of the trip hit me, exacerbated by the heat and hills which just wound up and sucker punched me.
I knew I would have some of these days, but wasn’t expecting it so quickly.
It wasn’t too bad, but I just wanted to get the ride done, but it was a ride that kept going and going.
The terrain is amazing in that it changes daily, as if we were on a daily slide show, which clicks to a new ‘page’ as we go along.
Yesterday the ride took us along these very pretty lakes, with rolling terrain.
We ended up in Salmon Arm; I’d always wondered what a Salmon Arm was, it always sounded so exotic.
Well, those expectations have been extinguished and I will leave it at that in case any proud citizen of SA is reading this, doubtful as that is.
We did get to watch some dragon boat racing going on, since it was Canada Day; this was actually fun.
I also saw my first Tim Horton’s; I never expected to be as excited as I was, and was so much so that I had Lewis take my picture in front of it.
My P B and J sandwich went untouched that lunch.
Speaking of which, I am coming to the end of my tolerance for them, especially when they are all mushy and have cooked in my saddle trunk, stewed in with a banana in the sweltering heat.
We left Salmon Arm, ascending a long steep hill to take us out of the valley, taking us right into the midday sun- the heat was something else, I felt like someone was holding a massive hair dryer to my entire body.
Eventually after what seemed like an eternity, we saw signs for the much anticipated Okanogan Valley; we had a fantastic descent into the valley, taking in the view of lush green fields and pastures, which sprouted just about everything under the sun.
We later learned that the Okanogan is not naturally green, but is artificially irrigated.
There were massive industrial type sprinklers which spanned great lengths in their reach, creating an amazing visual of the valley through the fine water spray.
Since it was Canada day, we had cake for desert, which went down a treat.
As further Canada day celebrations we were all woken up by some Canada Day enthusiasts at 1:30 in the morning, lighting fireworks (but not the fun kind, the kind that sound like the artillery.)
Had I known which tent was theirs I would have banged some pots and pans outside to joyously ring in the first day after Canada Day.
Today’s ride was absolutely gorgeous, as we’ve now entered the quintessential BC that all the Ozzies and the Brit have been expecting, having seen the landscape popularized by BC tourism, The Littlest Hobo, and the Beach Combers.
To be honest we’ve all been in shock at the BC that we’ve been in for many days, as it could be the Kalahari for all we knew-dry, desert like, and rocky.
We went by the place where the last spike was driven into the cross Canada railroad, a fantastic waterfall, and visited an old growth cedar forest, where we dipped our hot little feet into an icy stream (I dunked my head as well, as I was sweltering.)
For much of the earlier part of the day we rode beside the mountain, where we would periodically pass by these mountain streams, and got to enjoy the brief cooling effect that they had-how glorious it felt in the heat.
It seems for much of the ride we’re in site of, or ear shot of trains; I love when we’re in the canyons and can hear the seemingly ghostly echo of the whistle as it goes along.
We had lunch in Revelstoke, a tiny little skiing town that must be really bored in the summer.
As we came into town, a train was pulling in right beside us; Lewis was behind John and me, and we didn’t see him do the international, “blow your horn,” sign.
The conductor gave the whistle a good blow and John and I almost jumped right off our bikes-it was ear splittingly loud.
Lewis will have to watch himself, as both John and I wanted to poke a stick in his spokes for that one.
We have seen the Rockies in the distance for a while, and they have slowly been getting closer-again the snow capped mountains teasing us with the promise of cooler air.
For the first time since we started we got to enjoy some cloud cover near the end of the ride, and I have just heard that we may have showers in the next couple of days-I think that may be quite a welcome to ride in the cool for a change, as the temperature has been measuring 46-50 degrees on course by a couple of people with bike mounted thermometers.
Our camp site is gorgeous; we’re beside a ski hill, which is now densely thick with the typical BC trees seen in all the movies and postcards (pines?)
We’re in bear country now, and have been repeatedly warned not to take any food or toothpaste into our tents.
Apparently bears have a thing for dental hygiene- at least they’ll have fresh breath when they eat you, ok, off to bed.
One more day until rest day!
Pritchard to Canyon Creek
Sunday July 2, 2006
Distance 128km
Temperature 36 degrees
“Mercury is in retrograde,” said my fellow TDC cyclist, looking at me expectedly, waiting for me to respond appropriately.
I returned her gaze with a blank one, “What?”
She said it again, perhaps thinking by repeating it I would understand the second time around, “Mercury is in retrograde,” she stated again.
My brain furiously processed this bit of information, clicking through its memory bank trying to locate any semblance of understanding, much like Windows performs a search, with the little magnifying glass moving in circles, and then, “search results: search is complete, there are no matches for this criteria.”
She may as well have said something like, “Uncle Jellyfish is a spoon-master.”
“I have no idea what that means,” I said to her, not sure if I should feel foolish for not knowing what it meant when it was said in the same one would ask someone to pass the salt.
“Oh, it means that on Tuesday there will be lots of accidents, flat tires, you know, that sort of thing….” she reported, in total seriousness.
I looked closely at her face, waiting to see if she’d follow it up with a wink, or smile. Nothing happened.
“Oh, then I guess we’ll have to be really careful, is there anything one can do to, um, fortify oneself against this retrogradeness of Mercury?” I asked, growing quite concerned all of a sudden.
“No, not really, if it’s going to happen, then it’s going to happen.”
And so went the typical kind of conversation that goes on around here-never a dull moment.
But, perhaps there is something to this Mercury in retrograde-thing, whatever it is, as today we had three flats (including Ms. Mercury-in-retrogade) and two other people broke spokes, which is quite rare.
Plus another member of the French contingent went down with an unknown bug, and did not ride today-last week another Frenchie went down with the bug-we’re all hoping it’s a French only bug, and will not cross over the lingual divide.
People are succumbing to all kinds of injuries, and we’re barely a week into the ride.
Achilles is a popular injury, followed closely by knees. Other irritations include rashes (sun, bugs, saddle) and your garden variety sun burn.
I didn’t write yesterday as I was too pooched after the ride; I’d had a tough day psychologically; I think the full reality of the trip hit me, exacerbated by the heat and hills which just wound up and sucker punched me.
I knew I would have some of these days, but wasn’t expecting it so quickly.
It wasn’t too bad, but I just wanted to get the ride done, but it was a ride that kept going and going.
The terrain is amazing in that it changes daily, as if we were on a daily slide show, which clicks to a new ‘page’ as we go along.
Yesterday the ride took us along these very pretty lakes, with rolling terrain.
We ended up in Salmon Arm; I’d always wondered what a Salmon Arm was, it always sounded so exotic.
Well, those expectations have been extinguished and I will leave it at that in case any proud citizen of SA is reading this, doubtful as that is.
We did get to watch some dragon boat racing going on, since it was Canada Day; this was actually fun.
I also saw my first Tim Horton’s; I never expected to be as excited as I was, and was so much so that I had Lewis take my picture in front of it.
My P B and J sandwich went untouched that lunch.
Speaking of which, I am coming to the end of my tolerance for them, especially when they are all mushy and have cooked in my saddle trunk, stewed in with a banana in the sweltering heat.
We left Salmon Arm, ascending a long steep hill to take us out of the valley, taking us right into the midday sun- the heat was something else, I felt like someone was holding a massive hair dryer to my entire body.
Eventually after what seemed like an eternity, we saw signs for the much anticipated Okanogan Valley; we had a fantastic descent into the valley, taking in the view of lush green fields and pastures, which sprouted just about everything under the sun.
We later learned that the Okanogan is not naturally green, but is artificially irrigated.
There were massive industrial type sprinklers which spanned great lengths in their reach, creating an amazing visual of the valley through the fine water spray.
Since it was Canada day, we had cake for desert, which went down a treat.
As further Canada day celebrations we were all woken up by some Canada Day enthusiasts at 1:30 in the morning, lighting fireworks (but not the fun kind, the kind that sound like the artillery.)
Had I known which tent was theirs I would have banged some pots and pans outside to joyously ring in the first day after Canada Day.
Today’s ride was absolutely gorgeous, as we’ve now entered the quintessential BC that all the Ozzies and the Brit have been expecting, having seen the landscape popularized by BC tourism, The Littlest Hobo, and the Beach Combers.
To be honest we’ve all been in shock at the BC that we’ve been in for many days, as it could be the Kalahari for all we knew-dry, desert like, and rocky.
We went by the place where the last spike was driven into the cross Canada railroad, a fantastic waterfall, and visited an old growth cedar forest, where we dipped our hot little feet into an icy stream (I dunked my head as well, as I was sweltering.)
For much of the earlier part of the day we rode beside the mountain, where we would periodically pass by these mountain streams, and got to enjoy the brief cooling effect that they had-how glorious it felt in the heat.
It seems for much of the ride we’re in site of, or ear shot of trains; I love when we’re in the canyons and can hear the seemingly ghostly echo of the whistle as it goes along.
We had lunch in Revelstoke, a tiny little skiing town that must be really bored in the summer.
As we came into town, a train was pulling in right beside us; Lewis was behind John and me, and we didn’t see him do the international, “blow your horn,” sign.
The conductor gave the whistle a good blow and John and I almost jumped right off our bikes-it was ear splittingly loud.
Lewis will have to watch himself, as both John and I wanted to poke a stick in his spokes for that one.
We have seen the Rockies in the distance for a while, and they have slowly been getting closer-again the snow capped mountains teasing us with the promise of cooler air.
For the first time since we started we got to enjoy some cloud cover near the end of the ride, and I have just heard that we may have showers in the next couple of days-I think that may be quite a welcome to ride in the cool for a change, as the temperature has been measuring 46-50 degrees on course by a couple of people with bike mounted thermometers.
Our camp site is gorgeous; we’re beside a ski hill, which is now densely thick with the typical BC trees seen in all the movies and postcards (pines?)
We’re in bear country now, and have been repeatedly warned not to take any food or toothpaste into our tents.
Apparently bears have a thing for dental hygiene- at least they’ll have fresh breath when they eat you, ok, off to bed.
One more day until rest day!
Friday June 30, 2006
Day 7-Merritt to Pritchard
Temperature: 34 degrees and 50 degrees measured en route
Distance: 144 km
Another hot one today, with a ride that included the dreaded and much talked-about within the group- 4km climb.
There are two groups doing the Tour Du Canada this summer, and we’re traveling a day apart from each other, ours being the second group.
Yesterday was a rest day, where the groups overlapped at the camp site in Merritt; the other group was talking about taking a short cut to Pritchard today that would essentially eliminate the 4 km climb, plus take 10km off the route, and remove going to Kamloops.
Of course once our group caught wind of this conversation, people immediately jumped at the chance to skip the hill, as hills have taken on the persona of the bogey-man for many people (I’ll admit, myself included.)
We have been regaled with stories of legendary hill climbs that we will come across during our trans-Canada ride; one woman from Newfoundland was so frightened by the upcoming hill on our third day that she lost sleep over it (she made it.)
Needless to say most of the group opted for the short cut, but I am riding with some tough-guy wannabes-(myself included) so we elected to Climb The Hill.
Our ride started off from Merritt, along gently rolling terrain, which followed a series of lakes; eventually we veered away from the lakes, and started to go higher in elevation through a series of the rolling hills.
The country side again is amazing; very dry, rocky and desert like, and seems to be mostly inhabited by horse farms and cattle ranches-we are definitely in cattle-ranch country.
Eventually we reached the foot of this much-talked about hill (we didn’t know it at the time, but soon figured it out,) and started our ascent.
It wasn’t too bad in the beginning, but gradually started to increase in pitch.
The climb was deceptive as you could see a bend in the road, but once reached, took you to another bend.
This was repeated numerous times until 4 km had gone by.
I climbed slowly, at some points gasping for more air and gears-it was indeed a tough climb.
Once we reached the summit we saw signs for Kamloops, and came across a warning sign for drivers to check their brakes before the descent-this was going to be fun.
The descent in total was about 15 km-sometimes the pitch gentle, and sometimes steep-it was pretty hair raising to come racing down the hill at break neck pace into town.
The view going into Kamloops was spectacular, as the town essentially sits in a basin, between two mountains.
We raced down the hill, hitting a speed of 62km/hour, and just going down, down into the town-I’ve never had such a long descent.
Kamloops is an odd town; it feels like it’s in the middle of nowhere, (probably because it is,) and I am still not quite sure why its there.
We made our way into the centre of town, and had a Big Fat Greek lunch.
I will not do that again, good as it was, as afterwards I was full, yet still had to bike about 50km in 36 degree heat.
I could barely keep my eyes open; the mid-day heat was doing its thing, and I desperately wanted to crawl into a little ball and have a nap, but press on we must, and press on we did.
Luckily the rest of the ride was fairly flat, and we rode fast, riding at 34-40km/hour for long stretches at a time-I wish more of the riding could be like that.
We hit Pritchard eventually-but am not sure what Pritchard is, as I can’t see where it is, or if it exists.
We’re staying at a strange RV campsite (aren’t they all strange by nature?) with all kinds of animal horns and skulls nailed to various things around the site-a little unsettling.
It’s always fun to see what the amenities are going to be like; some places are obviously better than others.
I took a shower in this tiny stall (25 cents) and when I walked in, I saw a Big Black Spider.
I swear I saw it turn its head, look me in the eye, wink, and give me the thumbs-up-go ahead.
Once I was done, it immediately rappelled down to the floor, took a drink, and then scuttled its way up to its lair (with the skeletal remains of large insects and birds)
It seems to have figured out a routine when people shower.
I was grateful that I had served a purpose and wouldn’t have to be sacrificed, so gave it the salute and hastily beat a retreat.
The dinner pan has just been banged!
Day 7-Merritt to Pritchard
Temperature: 34 degrees and 50 degrees measured en route
Distance: 144 km
Another hot one today, with a ride that included the dreaded and much talked-about within the group- 4km climb.
There are two groups doing the Tour Du Canada this summer, and we’re traveling a day apart from each other, ours being the second group.
Yesterday was a rest day, where the groups overlapped at the camp site in Merritt; the other group was talking about taking a short cut to Pritchard today that would essentially eliminate the 4 km climb, plus take 10km off the route, and remove going to Kamloops.
Of course once our group caught wind of this conversation, people immediately jumped at the chance to skip the hill, as hills have taken on the persona of the bogey-man for many people (I’ll admit, myself included.)
We have been regaled with stories of legendary hill climbs that we will come across during our trans-Canada ride; one woman from Newfoundland was so frightened by the upcoming hill on our third day that she lost sleep over it (she made it.)
Needless to say most of the group opted for the short cut, but I am riding with some tough-guy wannabes-(myself included) so we elected to Climb The Hill.
Our ride started off from Merritt, along gently rolling terrain, which followed a series of lakes; eventually we veered away from the lakes, and started to go higher in elevation through a series of the rolling hills.
The country side again is amazing; very dry, rocky and desert like, and seems to be mostly inhabited by horse farms and cattle ranches-we are definitely in cattle-ranch country.
Eventually we reached the foot of this much-talked about hill (we didn’t know it at the time, but soon figured it out,) and started our ascent.
It wasn’t too bad in the beginning, but gradually started to increase in pitch.
The climb was deceptive as you could see a bend in the road, but once reached, took you to another bend.
This was repeated numerous times until 4 km had gone by.
I climbed slowly, at some points gasping for more air and gears-it was indeed a tough climb.
Once we reached the summit we saw signs for Kamloops, and came across a warning sign for drivers to check their brakes before the descent-this was going to be fun.
The descent in total was about 15 km-sometimes the pitch gentle, and sometimes steep-it was pretty hair raising to come racing down the hill at break neck pace into town.
The view going into Kamloops was spectacular, as the town essentially sits in a basin, between two mountains.
We raced down the hill, hitting a speed of 62km/hour, and just going down, down into the town-I’ve never had such a long descent.
Kamloops is an odd town; it feels like it’s in the middle of nowhere, (probably because it is,) and I am still not quite sure why its there.
We made our way into the centre of town, and had a Big Fat Greek lunch.
I will not do that again, good as it was, as afterwards I was full, yet still had to bike about 50km in 36 degree heat.
I could barely keep my eyes open; the mid-day heat was doing its thing, and I desperately wanted to crawl into a little ball and have a nap, but press on we must, and press on we did.
Luckily the rest of the ride was fairly flat, and we rode fast, riding at 34-40km/hour for long stretches at a time-I wish more of the riding could be like that.
We hit Pritchard eventually-but am not sure what Pritchard is, as I can’t see where it is, or if it exists.
We’re staying at a strange RV campsite (aren’t they all strange by nature?) with all kinds of animal horns and skulls nailed to various things around the site-a little unsettling.
It’s always fun to see what the amenities are going to be like; some places are obviously better than others.
I took a shower in this tiny stall (25 cents) and when I walked in, I saw a Big Black Spider.
I swear I saw it turn its head, look me in the eye, wink, and give me the thumbs-up-go ahead.
Once I was done, it immediately rappelled down to the floor, took a drink, and then scuttled its way up to its lair (with the skeletal remains of large insects and birds)
It seems to have figured out a routine when people shower.
I was grateful that I had served a purpose and wouldn’t have to be sacrificed, so gave it the salute and hastily beat a retreat.
The dinner pan has just been banged!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)