At the geographic center of North America, slurpin’ down a giant DQ freeze – lemon-lime, baby! Wore a hole through my rear tire – good thing i’ve got a spare. It’s 250 miles to the next bike shop! Huge flying red ants tried to drive me insane while changing out the tires, but i persevered!
Buffalo in the middle
macgraegor! slow down! i won’t be in fargo until the wee hours of saturday, the 29th. perhaps we should make arrangements for elsewhere? i’ll try to call you in a bit…