Well, I arrived at mt. lake just about darkfall. The '91 explorer made it all the way down I-81, and up the mountain. I was uber-excited by the novel (to me) cruise control.

As I arrived in Giles County, the sunset couldn’t have been better – the clouds had drifted down to settle around the summits and were tinted bright pink; the mountains in the distance a perfect backdrop blue. God, I do love it here. The deer pranced in front of my headlights and bumper as I drove up, reminding me to drive slooooowly in 2nd.

I arrived and met Dustin, Eric, Sarah, and a new assistant (ack, forgotten the name – my brain was completely fried). I ate my leftover quiche and salad I’d packed, to fill up after the honey roasted peanuts and milk I’d grabbed at the gas station earlier. Meanwhile, the mountain lakers went about their usual strange conversations. Dustin saw a bobcat (envy!), Eric bought grapefruits by mistake instead of oranges and was comically upset, which led to a conversation about how if you buy rotten fruit at Walmart you get a 110% return so always buy rotten food at Walmart, and we all learned from a magazine article on poop that poop, when it is healthy, is not supposed to float but rather if it DOES float, then you’ve eaten too much fat. Well.