The pitchers were cold. The victory, sweet. Don and I left the Wooden Chicken Pub, happy to say the least, and headed for Beaverton, Oregon, 15 miles away from Portland, where we checked into the Greenbriar Inn. Nice hotel, fairly close to town. We would be able to get to the sauce production facility early, and easily, the next morning.

We had a bit of a munchie attack, so we ordered room service dinner from the hotel restaurant. Fish 'n chips and beer were OK at the Wooden Chicken but, well, you know....... Anyway, we hogged it down and fell into bed, dead to the world. Jet lag had taken its toll on us, for this night.

 I'm up like a shot. I shower, dress, make coffee. Man, did I need coffee!

Then, as instructed by Jeeves, I draw Don's bath at precisely 100 degrees.

   He takes his routine, but delicate constitutional and then exits the bathroom and proclaims "I'm ready for the day!"