In to each life…
…a little rain must fall.
The steam rolled along the blacktop, slicking up the already treacherous tar-snakes of Mass. Route 23.
Thursday afternoon I packed up my tankbag and headed north to Vermont. I seemed to be chasing the tail of the rain and was thankful I hadn’t caught up to it yet.
Of course, when I go thinking… that’s when things all end up going south. This was pretty much the last I saw of the sun for the next 24 hours.
