You know that moment that comes to every adventure. That moment when the initial newness of the situation has worn off, exhaustion has begun to set in, and you wonder (under your breath) what the heck you're doing. That moment for this adventure, came Wednesday night. It was in the last half hour of what was a two day, 15 hour a day, work session. I'd worked solid that night, recovered the store, vacuumed the floor, and closed the store gate. All I wanted was to go home as soon as possible and sleep. Every moment of delay was...well not good. And I wondered what the heck was I doing? I'm too old for this stuff. What kind of adventure is working in a mall for Christmas anyway? Oh I know the answer, and have discussed it here a few times, but that night, at that time...I was ready to throw my bike to the side of the road and flag down the broom wagon.
BTW. The awesome picture, which is from the 1943 Tour de France, is from The Horton Collection website. Great old cycling stuff!
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