Yes, I got back to town early Tuesday morning and I did want to write about the trip and its finer details, only that it just did not happen. After a lot of contemplation, I have come to the conclusion to just fuck it. After all, why should I write about long, ghoulish 400 kilometer a side drives to the hills? Why should I even bother saying any of that?
I could tell you how wonderful all of it was. I could tell you how the clouds turned up in the valley to see us off only hours before we left. I could tell you how wonderful it was to sit around a campfire and sing all those old songs. I could tell you how wonderful it was to push myself to drive an average of 10 hours one side to get to the place and back.
But I would not tell you any of that. In fact I am not sure if I even want to tell myself that it was all that and more. And I won’t tell you a thing about how things are now that I am back. Hell, I am not even sure if you want to know anything at all. In fact, I guess I am pretty sure I am not going to say about it at all.