Wagons at Altitude

Yes, a vacation to Breckenridge and I fell off the wagon. Not in the cokes and candy in the middle of the night way, but massive breakfasts at the Blue Moose kind of way. There was a time my guantlet was aimed only for bigworm, but now it is aimed at the drummer formerly known as Intense Terry. Seems as though he doubts the red dragon. That’s really OK by me. It will be nothing to move my way back into the nutritional program. And maybe I’ll ride more than twice in a month. I will not be denied. Victory or death. My name is bikechain and I approve of this message.