As the Gold Dome scoundrels hurtle towards Sine Die, I'm getting the hell out of town. Even wild eyed political junkies have thresholds and the wailing from Capitol Avenue could drive Tantulus to drink.
The only salve is a high speed burn to parts unknown. I'm navigating the above two wheeled piece of weirdness through the wilderness areas of no less than four states. I'll be back Monday to pick up the pieces.