After staying at the most anonymous airport hotel ever, one
in a string of anonymity sprouting up on the prairie a few miles from DIA, we
have a completely uneventful trip home.
And so ends the Roots Tour.
We’ve come down from our fences, and taken it to the limit, and Taos
gets two thumbs-up from the new band members, although we miss our former
mate. And we think we may have missed a
green chile cheeserburger or two, and Izzy never got to eat at the Bav or the
St. Bernard, so who knows . . . 2018?
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