As I age, it seems that I become more and more afflicted with geezer-type injuries. Just yesterday, or was it the day before that, I was making my ordinary trip up three interior steps and through the hatch-like opening into our trailer’s bedroom level. I reached out to grab the corner of the tiny bathroom enclosure wall in an attempt to lever my way up the last step. There was a faint pop and a slight twinge in my right elbow but they did not seem to be otherwise noticeable at the time.

This morning I woke up and discovered my elbow now seemed to be sending messages that something more substantial may be involved. It feels that now I cannot extend my arm to the straight position nor bend it far enough to touch my big head without considerable pain. Bummer.

Therefore, Peggy was very nice about it and agreed that we would let my Alzheimer’s elbow take a break today. We limited our excursion to downtown Concrete (all one street of it) where we picked up some fairly tasty cinnamon rolls for breakfast. We took our rolls and drove a bit back toward our campground before pulling out at a nifty wildlife overlook adjacent to OR-20. We have seen elk herds here on many occasions but currently the the majestic critters are up in their summer pastures on the flanks of Mount Baker, a big honker of a volcano north of Concrete. We missed any elk but did get to see one lone deer almost at the end of our vision that was grazing way out of range of rifles on the road. Locals aren’t supposed to kill anything around the overlook because the land is owned by the Skagit Land Trust, an organization that purchases large tracts of land and places them off limits to development or farming forever. I might leave some money to these folks after I die from exsanguination after cutting off my traitor arm.