Happy Fathers's Day, Pop!

It was one of the best I've had as a father. Katy, Felix and Camille arrived after their long drive. The kids were already amped up like ferrets on crack, but they put on afterburners when they discovered the waterslide park and redneck mini-golf beside the Western Inn. Nevermind the mountains. If you read my post yesterday, you can see that these are truly my kids. I'm so proud.
Camille exclaimed, "Daddy, guess what?! It was a long trip but I didn't vomit once."

We gorged ourselves on a holiday buffet and set out for a "lazy" afternoon at the low-rent waterpark. I stopped sliding after being jettisoned out the "Comanche" water cannon. It's hard on white devil tourists.
Later, Felix made a fire and dinner was served. Costco hot dogs and S'mores. I prefer Smos--just marshmallow and cracker. It was a fine day. I really miss the constant hum of my bickering brood.
I'll do a bit of riding over the next few days, but mainly for the scenery around Glacier. The whole family unit hits the West side for a day trip tomorrow and then we'll spend more time on the more scenic East side and Canada. I'll throw down the appropriate gang signs at all the right places and blare Tupac (I ain't mad at ya!) tomorrow and Suge the rest of the week. R.I.P. Respect.

Tippin' a 40 to all my friends in that gangsta lean at McDonald Lake, presently.
 


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