Friday, July 15, 2011

Day Five: Clacier to Penticton

The McRib

Though it was scenic and filled with car-commercial turns and hardly another car on the road—nine hours is nine hours. Energy is drained. Grumpiness creeps in. Decision making is effected. I had a McRib for dinner. This is not an excuse, it’s a warning: there are worse things than McRibs out there—and they’re waiting with smiles and charm.

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