I ran into Rob Dryden, the crazy Iron Butt BMW rider, for the third time yesterday on Bear St. By now we knew each other the way people of an ilk know each other. We recognized the crazy in each other. So we shared a bite at my friend Stephane's sweet little tapas restaurant, Cafe de Soleil. "It's the physical and mental challenge," he said when I asked "Why?" "And the bragging rites. They don't sell their swag to just anyone." So if you see a motorbike with a sticker on it from the Iron Butt Association, know he or she has ridden at least 1000 miles in 24 hours. Rob did Santa Fe to Calgary in 32.5. Crazy. But crazy good.

I walked up Tunnel Mountain with Pat and we brainstormed ways to make a quick buck. We always brainstorm ways to make millions but nothing ever comes of it. Our ideas are always brilliant, but she's too busy claiming her independence and I'm too busy doing the same in very different ways.

We went to the Upper Hot Springs for a two hour spa treatment. I called Mystee, my old friend and vegetarian yoga goddess massage therapist and managed to book us both in for a hot plunge/aromatherapy massage/wrap. It was just what we both needed--some loving touch. I fell into a deep deep sleep after a great massage and woke up 20 minutes later feeling like days had passed. Mystee's magic.

Tomorrow morning I'm getting a lift to Christina Lake with my sister's undercover cop girlfriend and her daughter. Henk and I will soon be soaring down the highways of southern B.C. opening another chapter together, gobbling up some pavement and dreams.