Coda
It's been two months since our Final Hurrah finally ended. Of course, it hadn't quite, and not nearly so abruptly. And the moment it really did end, the real world, which we had ignored for sixty-seven days, would be denied no longer: lots of catchup needed doing. Never mind mulling how to best put a tidy bow on the whole thing, then place it on the shelf of particularly vivid memories. I left off with us having reached land's end. I had found a not too distant Super-8 motel where we could stay before setting out for home the next morning. Susan thought different. Our trusty steeds cluttering their otherwise tres fancy lobby Whereupon we spent the rest of the day on five-star lunch, dinner, and bar in between. Many, many reminiscings. The next morning we reentered reality. Three and a half miles to the nearest U-Haul, and just as we had started in Boise, hurling our stuff in the back of the thing and trudging down the road, this time towards home. This particular U-Hau