And upon arrival at the transit center...

I haul ass a couple blocks to catch my connecting route, thus accomplishing some 'cardio' work, that I will be needing as the summer of Morning Meth Zombies approaches. So today we will have no transit center report and the Bolshevik gets a reprieve from my taskings. Now I'm secure from the 'Horror that is a daily run on the 358 listening to older people talk about the weather and lutefisk while riding through the little berg of Edmonds, how peacefull. Gooday and Goodnight