I'm driving back home from McMinnville in my new truck, a huge white King Cab 4-door pickup. It's a monster, and I'm totally impressed with it. It's going to be so great for carpooling to climbs - plenty of comfortable room for passengers, and room for gear in the back. I'm going to use Dave's strategy of not allowing junk to be carried in the passenger compartment, to keep that pristine for passengers.

I get stuck in some mud on a corner. No problem, 4WD, take a run at it, and this heavy beast can take on anything.

I'm almost home when I realize I should have stayed in McMinnville. I have to come back the next day for Monte and Dusty's wedding. I thought they broke up. And they forgot to invite me until the last minute - how could they do that, with the long relationship I have had with Monte, and with Dusty too!

I seem to recall deciding to turn around, although I was almost home. I just decided that the last few minutes wasn't even worth it. But then I end up at a yellow-walled apartment, carrying my bike. Someone is there, a friend, and I tell him that I'm too drunk to go driving again. One drink just gets me smashed, and it takes a long time for the effect to diminish.