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Added on 01/03/08 by Betsy
Thirty mile an hour winds and minus 27 windchill.
While most people would balk at driving miles in the opposite direction of civilization down a road called "the blacktop" during a blizzard, I see nothing but opportunity. The prospect of an excellent auction lay at the end of the blacktop.
I knew that this adventure we were embarking on seemed a lot like the beginning of a predictable Discovery Channel show that could possibly end with me breaking off frozen toes and eating them out of desperation, but I also figured that the suburban hipsters looking for more treasure-clutter for their ecletijunk houses would stay away on such a day.
My only competition would be a small crowd in Carhardts using this as a "going to town" excuse.
I was right.
More to come.
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