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We all share our campfire tales around a lunchtime fire.
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Our convoy of nearly two dozen vehicles turned onto Longwater
Road and headed for the car wash.
“Here’s your sign!” Slowpoke chuckled as he pointed to a new sign on the
side of the road. It said something to
the effect that the car wash might be a little deep and anybody with an IQ
higher than Colorado’s nighttime temperature would turn around and get change
for the car wash in Denver. Although the
sign stirred up a lot of chatter on the CB radio, no one turned around although
Boss did ask what Colorado’s nighttime temperature was. He had driven all the way up from Austin,
Texas to go the car wash with us.
Anybody with an IQ as high as Austin’s nighttime temperature ... well
shucks fire anyhow, we didn’t have enough fingers and toes in whole durn bunch
to count that high.
Our first stop was at the unofficial official, picnic-lunch,
sit down, fill’um up, keep on turckin’, campsite.
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