Though, as will be seen later in this tale, J's timing isn't always her strong suit, one would have to agree that trading in your car for a convertible three days before road tripping to a bachelorette party is very good timing.
And, off we go, sun sparking off the windows, negotiating chop sticks through corners, winding up the highway to a resort town a couple hours away from the city I'd only returned to for a matter of moments. In perhaps an odd act of symbolism, we are stuck in traffic behind two guys with a disturbingly realistic penis etched in the dust of their back window.
My famous running a motorized scooter into a fence incident, despite being several years old now, is still unfortunately fresh in my partner's mind, so we decide to let her drive. She informs me solemnly that she intends to floor it directly into any mud puddles.
The Peak is magnificent. It is easier to understand now why people climb mountains, as that top-of-the-world feeling is a little intoxicating.
The more jarring ride down culminates with two black bear sightings, and careening through the world's juiciest mud puddle.
I'm the taller one.
I sadly did not win, veering too much to the left, though I did perform better than the individual who played the pictured round.