Bozeman, the epic journey, the wedding, the Hemingway Week, was many things: short, memorable, tiring, bourbon-ey, beefy, cooler than expected, boot-buying, and enjoyable. Mostly the last.
Drove over with a large car-load, got a speeding ticket about 40 miles shy of the line, stayed in a large house, cooked my way through a whole steer, played nails in the mountains, roasted Dustin, got woken up by Dustin unloading his gun (2nd time a Calery has done this to me...), cooked some more, cooked a little bit more, went to a wedding with a beautiful bride that let me dance with her in my red-seersucker "summer playsuit," swam in the Gallatin river, and drove home with a stop for fried chicken, another stop for nectarines and corn, and a final stop for mountain rock blasting (rawk blasting would have been preferred!)
Now I've returned to work, where I have to make some changes to some things, and so I embark on that job....
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