Catey's Goathead poem

Poem

The hunter of the tuby:

I may be small and just a weed

But I can be strong even if I am a seed

A hunter am I, and I patiently wait

For unsuspecting prey rolls into view

A hunter am I, and hunting I do

When he rolls over my place I latch on tight

A whoosh of air and I know I hit right

Another tube bites the dust it's master is angry and I dust myself off

Now here I wait for another prey knowing that small I may be

My prey doesn't stray for I am a hunter and hunting is what I do.

Day 11- A new enemy

We started the day in high spirits with a cool temp and cloud cover. An hour down the road we ran into two bikers who were crossing the country as well. After talking they informed us that they ran into a dirt road ahead and had to turn around.  This meant that we had to head back down the road and bike on the interstate.

The good news is that we teamed up and had a few good miles. Then, the heat kicked in... 104 degrees and a headwind soon hit us. We were forced to stop. We waited in the parking lot of a gas station and sat in with some sprinklers, which helped cool the air.

After an hour we left.  The gas station said that the temperature was 108.  Mom and Scott thought the headwind had stopped... they were wrong. It was so hot Jon's glasses melted. Scott's iPhone said that the temperature was 122 degrees, Ben's read 118.

As we were approaching Mountain Home, we saw dry lightning. Opting for another rest period, we arrived at a gas station only to find out that we couldn't continue. The lighting we saw before had started a massive fire. Soon smoke and ash reached us, we were forced to settle in a crappy motel because the good hotels were evacuated.

In the end, I made a new enemy... called heat.