The aborted trip to the Isle of Skye

Bobby made plans for us to go up to the Isle of Skye as part of our Scottish tour with a few of his local friends. They'd go in their car, Bree, Reegen and I would take ours. We packed up all our things, drew up our maps, borrowed Bobby's cell phone so we could communicate en route, and headed off. It was estimated that it'd take about 5 hours to get up there. Reegen typically dislikes any car ride that takes more than 30 minutes, so we kept many toys out in the car, hoping to entertain.

Two hours later, having only covered 20% of the distance, we were a bit worried about our time estimate. We were off the fast highway driving, and were now barreling down on 1.5 lane roads that turned more frequently and sharply than spaghetti in a blender. I was in the front seat, constantly turning around to entertain Reegen, who was not happy with the situation. All my head turning was making me quite ill. The car whipping around was obviously not making Reegen happy either.

Well, Reegen puked. A few times. Since we were going around a turn at the time, the resulting damage was impressive, but did follow Neutonian laws. The entire back seat was covered. Don't worry, there are no pictures of it in the following pages, you can continue...

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