Ok now, that will be quite enough!
We (or at least me) are nowhere near ready for the sorry weather that descended upon us this week.
Good Wife Norma and I have much fall fishing yet to do. Plus, we have a trip to the high country in and around Yellowstone that absolutely will require us to navigate several mountain passes.
For these reasons and more we are not yet prepared for the dark, frozen, dead months. You know, the ones that inflict themselves upon Nebraska every, single, gall-darned, miserable year.
But not yet. Please, not yet. I’m begging here.
Fall is absolutely the best season of the year. If you don’t agree then you are wrong. Simple as that.
Except for the inevitable foot-deep blanket of neighbors’ leaves, there is little not to like about this cool, crisp, relatively bugless time of year.
If only Husker football and volleyball had a pulse we’d be in hog heaven.
Then, right when we’re most vulnerable comes a nasty bit of weather to make us even crabbier … if that’s possible.
But guess what? We’ll go to Yellowstone anyway. Weather be hanged. We might slip and slide a little getting over a pass or two, but we ain’t skeer’d.
Been there, done that when we lived in Yellowstone country more than 15 years ago. Three Junes in succession we found ourselves gripping with both cheeks trying to get down off the mountain in snow, wind, ice, sketchy visibility or all four. That’s right, June.
Imagine, then, what September has at its disposal with which to torture us should it choose to do so. We hope it doesn’t, of course, but will be prepared if it does.
The good news? A touch of winter turns Yellowstone and everything around it into a magical, shining wonderland.
But not to worry, we have a great plan; try really hard not to die.
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