Dogs, Blogs, and Bike Cogs

We made it!

And I don’t just mean me and Apollo. I mean everyone. You, me, even Spunk.

Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades (well that escalated quickly).

This is a commonly used expression in the Fontanella household accredited mostly to the matriarch of the family — not a big surprise if you’re familiar with her brand of humor.

Call it a quirk — or a downright weird thing that I do — but I like to jokingly refer to my "future self" to help me procrastinate important things. If you’re looking for ways to improve your procrastination skills, this is a great place to start.

"I don’t have to do that now. Future Clint does." See. See how easy it is to kick the can down the road with that.

As a through-and-through New Englander, I can’t say I know much about New Mexico.

If you’re bravely and boldly following along, last time I left us with a precarious, cliff-hanger as my water filter broke while I was camping in southern Colorado. (TV Audience: *gasp*)

Good news: I found a new filter and my dysentery joke didn’t become a reality. (TV Audience: applause)

Hot take: Penultimate is a top five vocab word in the English language.

On the Great Divide, towns are a safe haven. There’s shelter, people, and most importantly, food.

When there are fewer towns, there’s no rush to get to camp. Once the tent is up and I’ve finished stuffing my face with ramen, there isn’t much to do besides write these blog posts.

A smart person once told me, “it’s not an adventure until something goes wrong.”

Think about it. What if Indiana Jones never set off any booby traps? Or, if Fred’s first plan in Scooby Doo always caught the bad guy? Or, if Gerry Bertier didn’t get hit by a car before the state finals? (actually that would be a much better movie)

We all make mistakes, but this one is inexcusable.

I let you, the loyal reader, down, and in turn, I let myself down, too. I hold this blog to a high standard and like a parent of a misbehaved child, I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.

About a week back, a group of motorcyclists who were traveling the Great Divide (apparently that’s a thing and no one told me) passed me while I was biking. They stopped and were shocked I was going as far as they were, but only using one horsepower — I told them I was more of a donkey, but since this is a family-friendly blog I’ll let you finish that comparison.