Seriously though, as much as I talk about this stuff, please don't take it as a recommendation. Sometimes it's not very good.
Friday! Stayed up late re-watching the Wire. Are you sick of me talking about the Wire yet? Well there's only one episode left so we'll be done soon.
Saturday! Scotty had a bad day. Scoundrels stole his sword (maybe) and used it so smash his car window (possibly). While he was cleaning up the debris some punk-ass teenagers made fun of his vest.
Danny, Chris, and I were going to take him to lunch. I was lobbying heavily to go to Hooters because hey, that would be ridiculous. We ended up at the Red Iguana instead. I wish I had my camera so I could take pictures of the creepy playground at the creepy motel next door.
Really only one thing to do after that. Experiments with rocketry.
On his own blog Scotty has already proved that attaching bottle rockets to a paper airplane will only end in disappointment. That didn't stop us from trying again anyway.
Disappointment. But what about strapping a rocket engine to a balsa wood glider?
Faster the blink of an eye the thing took off, looped, and came right back at us. All I could capture was the trail of smoke.
and the fate of the glider.
Scott claims the projectile came within inches of his head. I cannot deny nor verify this.
Sunday! Faster than the blink of an eye a plan was devised by my grandpa to go to Delta, Utah (far away) to look at the migrating snow geese that stop there every year on the way up north. I had to get up at 6am which you know I love doing, and then me and my grandpa Gordon and my own selfish brother Michael hit the road.
And what a long lonely road it was.
The semi-ghost town of Eureka. The population peaked at about 4,000 in the 1920s, but now it's down to about 700.
This cabin belonged to Porter Rockwell.
Eureka's Theater. I guess people were a lot smaller back then.
Finally, to Delta! They love their snow geese in Delta.
If there's one thing we know about Gordon, it's that he's always on the outside looking in.
Took a wrong turn and stumbled upon the site of the Gunnison Bend Massacre. In 1853 Eight surveyors were killed here by a band of angry Native Americans.
The wind and cold proved that a little bit of geese watching goes a long way, so we stopped for lunch at one of Delta's two restaurants. I am fascinated by this odd garnish.
I hate him so much!