Kindle Fired

I would like to apologize for the spelling and grammar in some of my previous posts. In a rush to get them up, I didn’t proofread them. Later, reading them back to Shane and Roberta, I hung my head in shame.

The Android autocorrect is an interesting beast. It has a limited vocabulary, not recognizing dirty words. ‘Piss’ and ‘pee’ are out of its dictionary. However, it corrects ‘damn’ into ‘damnable’. This amuses me to no end, and may influence how I use the term. ‘Damnable’ does sound cooler.
Continue reading

Parting of the Fellowship

Teams had been rolling into UB for the past several weeks. Mr. Rob, founder of the rally, looked weary of the hotel lobby that he had spent so much time in, listening to the same slow jam versions of already slow rock songs that used to (perhaps still does) plague the office workers at G5. Few people listen to ‘Imagine’ and think, “You know what this song needs? To be slowed down by a large factor and played just on a piano without vocals.” Few think it, but the ones who act on that thought should be shot.

Anyway, music notwithstanding, the lobby of the four-star Chinggis Khan hotel was packed with excitement. Dirt bag adventurers rolled in from the steppe, parking their cars in the VIP slots (which, actually, were reserved for rally cars). Just a few steps away, Mongolian wedding parties, shuffled in and out of the hotel. The backgrounds of their wedding photos will likely be cluttered with broken down Fiat Puntos, piles of used camping gear, and unwashed ralliers.
Continue reading

Crashing the Marabby

I don’t spend a lot of time blogging out in the Mongolian plains. Most times you will find me grasping my tent and leaning back against the harsh Mongolian winds, trying to keep us both on the ground. At other times you will find me in my tent, iPad at the ready to write a blog only to feel my air mattress deflate plopping me onto the rocky ground. But mostly, you will find me gazing into the distance at a country we have reached after six weeks of hard driving, a year of planning, and a lifetime of yearning. Continue reading