My OperaWest VA: home of Vicious Weiner Dogs
Wednesday, July 19, 2006 12:31:02 AM
From: Bardstown, KY
To: Green Brier State Park, West Virginia
Miles: 341
MPG: 49.1
Got a late start this morning due to a late night catching up with Jess and Beth, and spent the better part of the rest of the day driving to West Virginia in search of the high ground. (Regular readers of this blog may well think that is long overdue.) Actually, we were hoping to find someplace to camp for the night that was at least slightly cooler than hell.
We found a place near the Virginia border and set out for a short hike before dinner. Our adventures almost ended there.
Passing a group of campers, Jon was attacked by what we can only describe as a cross between a wiener dog and a rottwieler. The horrible, yippee little creature simply would not let go of Jon’s ankles (luckily clad in heavy boots) so, after repeated warnings (and a few small holes in shoes and ankles) to the very redneck owner to get the damn dog away from him, Jon punted the thing. Don’t worry. It was more of a shove than a kick; the dog wasn’t hurt a bit (in fact, he seemed to like it) but the owner sure wasn’t pleased. We took off before he could get his shotgun, surely not far away.
And that, we regret to say, is the only interesting thing that happened to us today.
To: Green Brier State Park, West Virginia
Miles: 341
MPG: 49.1
Got a late start this morning due to a late night catching up with Jess and Beth, and spent the better part of the rest of the day driving to West Virginia in search of the high ground. (Regular readers of this blog may well think that is long overdue.) Actually, we were hoping to find someplace to camp for the night that was at least slightly cooler than hell.
We found a place near the Virginia border and set out for a short hike before dinner. Our adventures almost ended there.
Passing a group of campers, Jon was attacked by what we can only describe as a cross between a wiener dog and a rottwieler. The horrible, yippee little creature simply would not let go of Jon’s ankles (luckily clad in heavy boots) so, after repeated warnings (and a few small holes in shoes and ankles) to the very redneck owner to get the damn dog away from him, Jon punted the thing. Don’t worry. It was more of a shove than a kick; the dog wasn’t hurt a bit (in fact, he seemed to like it) but the owner sure wasn’t pleased. We took off before he could get his shotgun, surely not far away.
And that, we regret to say, is the only interesting thing that happened to us today.
