Townie Clubs

During most of the half century love affair I've had with this river region, it was fairly easy to ignore the politics of its 5 State Governments. The loyal citizens who assured me their side of the river was vastly different from the other side might have fit into a travel blog as, "Quaint." My least favorite part of the base camp I am currently setting up in pursuit of those river dreams is that it binds me to one of those 5 governments. Yes, Ma'am/Sir, I know your flag is worthy of saluting. Yes, Ma'am/Sir, I do intend to pay my taxes and respect your laws.

I haven't explored much since I paid for the base camp back in September. It didn't seem like a surprise back then. Still doesn't. I was at the end of a 6 month road trip. Some down time was due. The past 2.5 months of waiting for the contractor have been downright toxic and getting out to explore the wonderous geology I have loved for so long would have been good medicine.

This morning finds me wondering if my fear of joining townie clubs is the reason I have not been taking that medicine. Will the river forgive me for the license plate which declares that this side of the river is vastly different from the other side of the river? Have I sold out?

I slept well last night. Apetite sketchy with gut knots warning of pending complications. Doing reasonably well at respecting my unhappiness with the contractor yaddahs, then setting ^it^ aside to get back to the task at hand. Looking forward to the lunch date with my friend later today.