Diffrences

This year, Kona Bridge was a little different. The sun wasn’t out; instead, it was cold and grey. Mo wasn’t waiting for me as usual; she was right behind me. We stopped for a break. I needed to go down to the river to wash my glasses, and Mo needed to exchange her muddy and cold gear for something warm. It would be another hour or so before we stopped for breakfast at the Crossroads Truck Stop. Last year was warmer, and I was solo. This year, I was part of a team.