The rain beat upon my window that morning like angry octopus tentacles against the hull of a ship, and I knew that the crew's day trip to Lake Shasta would surely be cancelled. We agreed that the storm was too fierce for safe voyage, and collectively fell back asleep, only to awake several hours later to greatly reduced showers and timid winds. It would be madness to begin the nine hour round trip up to Shasta at noon, right?
Either Adrian had little idea of what he was up against, or he is just that perfect sort of crazy that enjoys long walks on the beach and white knuckle road trips.
Out here on the road a man can clear his mind.
Bringing provisions is crucial for long drives, especially with our ridiculous time constraints.
Within the witch's cauldron of the valley a storm is brewing.
Always bring your skateboard (only one of us did) because you never know what crusty gems you might stumble across. Unless you happened to be driving past this remote school in Lake Shasta City at dusk you probably do not know the outcome of Joe's boneless.
A view like this justifies all the hardships.
