O Beautiful for spacious skies For amber waves of grain For purple mountain majesties Above the fruited plain How y'all doin? It's taken me three days to stop looking over my shoulder every time someone says that to me. I got my kicks ... on Route 66. For 90 seconds, no 3 minutes if you count the two U-turns because we missed the Route 60 signed turnoff. We're back in the prairie badlands on route 60, to 412, riding through wheat fields, grazing grounds where cattle shared their space with oil drills. We crossed a handful of rivers, one called Bacon Rind Creek. Go figure. We had a fast and furious flat ride clocking in 350 kms by lunchtime, ending up with 540 kms for the day. It is 32 again, with white cumulus clouds overhead
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