Northern Lights

Back in the car for a trip north. To a celebration of life for F. Bruce Miller and then a trip to see my father and a trip to Saratoga next week.

A lot of memories and emotions in the sidecar.

Some good, some bad, some still confounding. Life, I guess. I’ll try to think of the good times, sledding behind the old jeep, summer swims in the pond, road trips to Atlantic City and Penn National, always in the last race, the day I won on Bryan Station at Callaway Gardens, a few days hunting and the day Frank Bryan rode Jayton to a nose victory. They’re the good ones. I can tell those.

After that, I’ll head to Rehoboth to see my dad. Hopefully, he’ll tell a few stories. The ones we’ve all heard before and know we won’t hear many more times. Life, I guess. The sidecar is filling up.

The Belmont Special at Saratoga looms next week. The elephant is at the bottom of the stairs. A distraction, at least. A destination, at best.