I could go 10ish miles as early as you can. Tell me where or when not after 9 and not before 6:30.

All right, if Gadman doesn't come back I'll say Y at 8:30.  If someone overrules that I'll check again in the AM.

I could go 10ish miles as early as you can. Tell me where or when not after 9 and not before 6:30.

You early morning runners on Sundays in the winter kill me. As I write this, it's 38 degrees!  So don't tell me it's spring.

Murder, averted

It was an ordinary Spring day. A nice day. Cool but not cold. Three friends met to go for a run. They set off, not knowing that danger was waiting quietly, almost invisibly in their path.

The first several miles passed quite pleasantly. They chatted. They jogged. They had no idea what lay in wait for them. They passed eight miles. Nine. Hills came and went. They found themselves jogging down a quiet, rural residential street. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. They'd all done a million runs just like this.

A truck approached from behind. They heard it coming and veered to the side of the road, so as to give it a wide berth. Perfectly normal. The truck approached and passed. A few seconds went by, and the truck slowed. Brake lights went on. The truck stopped. The driver got out and began talking.

The runners weren't sure at first what the driver was saying. He had an accent and was somewhat hard to understand. The issue soon became clear, however. Something had hit the windshield of his rather large truck, and had almost torn his antenna off. A quick survey of the scene revealed a most unpleasant truth.

Someone had strung 20-30 lb. test fishing line across the road, doubled, at roughly chin/neck height. Had the truck not come along when it did, the runners would have run smack into it. Whichever of the three happened to be leading the way at the time would probably have been severely injured, and the other two would likely have fared little better given how close they were together and how completely unexpected such a thing would have been.

There was nothing about this particular location that suggested any sort of reason, however misguided, for such a thing. It was just there.

Report it to the PD

I did consider it, but after my recent experience with the Sanford P.D. I'm not particularly impressed by their willingness to do anything about it...

(Some punk kid smashed in one of the windows on our building a couple weeks ago. A neighbor got it, too. I called the cops. A cop came, followed his tracks in the fresh, deep snow around the block and directly to the very small (a few units at most) apt. building where the asshole went. And then did absolutely nothing. Just displayed a complete unwillingness to pursue the matter any further. And that was that.)

Where was this?

Where was this?

Stalag 13