God, I hate mountains

I’m sitting outside a Arby’s on Interstate 68, somewhere west of Cumberland, Maryland at 2:52 pm (I’ll post this the next break I take. No internet signal here. And I lied...) My hands have been sweating since I hit I-68, so bad that I finally broke out the motorcycle gloves just so I would be able to keep my grip. Yeah, that bad. The hills are freaking steep, and there are enough turns that I really have to pay attention. When I first hit I-68m and crested that first big climb, the only thought that crossed my mind was, “Fuck, I forgot how bloody high the hills here were.” And each bleeding climb after that was even higher. I think I’m at 3000 feet right now. I still have at least a half hour until Morgantown, and then three hours until home. Thank God it gets less steep after Morgantown. Well, my sandwich is done, and I have to piss. I know you wanted to know that.

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