Sorry for the handwriting, but I want to reenact (for the purpose of personal therapy) the moment and place where the post-camp notes for the Penticton Spring Cycle Camp post were first drafted. Only hours after saying goodbye to all who attended the camp with hugs and high fives, my car was dead and I was drinking bad coffee and writing these notes from a sad diner in flood-ravaged Princeton, stranded for who knows how long on my way back to Vancouver. A big thanks in the end to Bernard the mechanic who sold me a $500 twenty-year-old car on a wing and a prayer to make it to Hope and beyond.