Killing time; flying home.

I have a big piece of sil-nylon, and I'm a better man for it. I used it as a groundcloth for my tent over the last month of bicycle horseabout, but it works just as well to sleep in the park. I read a book until I was tired, then I became a big green burrito.

I went to a restaurant and ordered a burrito. I was hungry, and time needs to be killed sometimes. I would have gotten groceries, but I wouldn't be able to take them on the plane later. Same goes for coffee. I went to a coffee shop and learned how to kill a billion hours.

Matt took me to the airport. Portland is over. Pennsylvania is a pool of water, and my plane will dive in. No time to check the temperature with my toes. I'm diving right back into the state I call home.