thus far

	I thought the amount of Empire State roadkill was impressive — until I got to Michigan.

Along the way between, civilizations came & went with the usual dodgy intrigue.

I packed a mishmash of sounds, spine-down to raise the fractal odds. 

A blind pull found an Arche leading a timely score clicking to a NY 32 crackdown with flat-topped badgers keeping rural peace — one perp hands-up while another squatted, just shaking their head, on a collapsing porch.

All other unanswered questions were put to rest by motel lot greeters that showed me to my hidey-hole nest.

	I hit a business route early with a regional economic indicator: passing a car wash awash in detailers slogging an 8AM line to the workaday boulevard while hardshoes & garden clogs alike grimaced at their cells as if even the inevitable still wasn’t enough.

All amenities were later abandoned for a sedate stroll in a waxing midnight woods.

	The morning’s random pick spooked itself while crossing Chautauqua Creek.

There was a brief smell of hot dogs at the Pennsylvania/Ohio line as I slipped past buckeye border patrol magically undetected.

The hovel was accommodating, but I brought my own cards.

. . . continue with current bearing . . .