Yellow Line Bread

Holy smokes. I have biked about 800 miles this fall, and in that time I thought I had seen it all: broken bottles, junk, wooly caterpillars, dead raccoons. I've seen beautiful fall foliage trees, and skin magazines. I have found tools, bungees, and kittens. But I have never found a bag of bread in the middle of the road. Right in the middle of the bridge over the Yamhill River on the Bellevue Highway, a bag of bread. I was a little hungry after biking 14 miles, but I refrained. I like the skid marks around the bag, which means country drivers were either braking to avoid the bread bag, or the getaway car was hot footin' it out of there after dropping this hot bread. Look in the distance - a car is heading our way. I wasn't going to stick around to get flattened looking at a damn bag of bread. Love you, Blip!