Here on the porch at Dani's, enjoying the chill breeze as a distant storm passes by, and the last half hour of daylight, it seems right to have been awake to see the solstice dawn, and out in the world all day. Though after 16 hours, the part of the day spent napping in a hammock barely seems enough.

Such an early start to this day, first visiting a small-town garage with Dad, where skype video calls were being made, and then racing the morning heat north, out of South Carolina.

(I can't hear "frakking water" on the radio without snickering. Congratulations to all the news-people who pulled that phrase off today.)

A long drive punctuated by picking up my passenger, and my own Goodbye Solo drive up by Blowing Rock, looking in the mirror at passenger dreaming in the backseat. Thinking about how, in the flat lands, cresting a long, slow hill, I often feel as if the road ahead could at any moment vanish, sending the car plunging into nothing; a latent agoraphobia. And in the mountains, as the road narrows and winds, I'm always confident it continues solidly around each blind bend.