Ultra Pi

Lost in the depths of a Taurine buzz. The highway becomes a blur after 1400 miles. Perhaps its the redundancy of the road or the repetitive drone of the engine. Mostly, I think its the diminishing wear on the spirit as one watches so many opportunities pass by. Can't stop in NY City, or Boston, forget Philly, Baltimore, a hike in the Catskills', or a swim in the Finger Lakes...times running out. So, I slam the gas and the last swig of Redbull, cause I-95 is the last thing place on my mind. Somewhere around 4am I fall into the guest bed at Millwood. Nothing. 9:30 am, I wake up; why? I manage a hour and a half with the family before realizing my body is hitting the gas, but the gauge has long since plummeted into the E. Sleep. 1:30pm awake again. Helped Bob get a few odds and ends wrapped up around the house. Back to Winchester. Sleep. 7:30pm finally I come to and it feels as though my body has finally forgiven the transgressions of the past 48 hours. Grocery shopping for the routine. The routine; back to the usual. Saw a thousand interesting places this weekend I'd like to explore. However, my world consists of Winchester and Capon Bridge, the rest is just a headline on CNN. A catastrophe, an opportunity, a rarity, the expected, witnessed by its inhabitants. Everywhere there is something begging' to be seen, photographed. But my camera sits idle, the lens longing for some adventure. Life will have to do for now. Life; always getting in the way of LIVING. Next weekend is Climbing at the New.