On mornings after I camped, I would always need to let my tent dry out. This morning it just sat there, not getting any drier, so I loaded it up wet. 

I rode eight miles down the road to Pitkin where I filled my water bottles and ate some BBQ.

I have a theory about barbecue. More specifically, how you can tell if a barbecue place is good. 

When you see the lettering, it’ll be one of three ways:   “barbecue,”  “bar-b-cue,” or “BBQ.”

My theory is that the shorter the spelling, the better the barbecue. A “barbecue” place might have wait staff that takes your order, plastic plates, and perhaps even cloth napkins. A “BBQ” place isn’t going to waste time with frivolities such as spelling it out, because, by God, they’ve got BBQ to make. Cloth napkins? No.  Just… No.  Since you’re gonna have sauce all over your face and in your hair you’ll need more than a single cloth napkin, so instead there’ll be a roll of paper towels on the table.

Also, wait staff?  “Serve yourself, you lazy bastard. I got me some BBQing to do.”

I think it’s a good theory, but plan to do extensive research before stating with certainty.