Not too much to report this Saturday. Minneapolis is wet and gloomy. I worked at a local coffee shop on projects, enjoyed a meal with Dimmel and Ryno in St. Paul, geared up and headed out for home back in Traverse City.

Ryno: Thanks for the hospitality and good times, you cocksucker. I�ll be back.

Drove all night, firing out of Minnesota at a healthy, ahead-of-time 5pm. I was across Wisconsin’s thick mid-section by about 9pm, heading north along the north shore of Lake Michigan. I was enthralled by Bryson’s audiobooks, so those miles added up real good beneath me.

I almost made it to the bridge, pulling off at a little lakeshore reststop for some shut-eye in the back of BIg S. I gotta get a piece of foam for sleeping back there, goddamn. He’s a good rig, but his floors are hard.

I drifted off to sleep wondering if I’d awake to a dark, hairy, figure silently peering into my back window down at me as I slept. I’m 31 years old and still wonder about bigfoots and boogeymen and wolf-beasts and shit. Can’t escape it, really. Been freaked out by the open night since I was a little shit. Still am, at times.

Fell asleep as the waves crashed on that Lake Michigan shore.