hunting, for the big red barn.

Last month, I was bored.

Jeff was out of town.

It was hot, and summers vacations were too far away to look forward too.

We needed something to do.

So, we loaded up into the car-- and away we drove.

We drove, and drove, and drove...

We got lost once (okay, twice) looking for:

What is this place?

An obscure little store, waaaaaaaay on the outskirts of any substantial town...

past lots of farm fields, cows, and nothingness.

Even my GPS was confused.

"Turn right here!" The GPS lady chirped.

I turned, and the road hit a dead end.

Luckily, the Big Red Barn is out on the open land, all alone... in the middle of nowhere.

So, we found it with old navigational indian techniques and cold, hard, luck.

So, why did I drive for miles and miles to this silly red barn?

Yes, watermelon ice cream.. and black licorice too. My stomach made me do it.

So, was it:

The journey was better than the destination, so I would say that