It was a biker week convention thing. Motorcyclists everywhere.
The market was small, and our hotel room didn't have a refrigerator, so I stuck to buying baked goods that didn't need refrigeration and some sugar plums.
I passed a tree Lincoln passed by. It was pretty crazy.
This was the tree. I tried to imagine how much smaller it would have been over 100 years ago. Full of hope that tree was, or burdened with the sorrow of what it had already seen? I don't know.
After I returned I met up with E., L., K. and A. and we went to the battlefield that has the Devil's Den and Little Round Top.
Lots of people died here but now it's pretty. I guess it was pretty even when the fields were strewn with bodies.
This statue had soulful eyes.
Motorcycles everywhere.
I worried I would fall down and break my ankle.
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