Bring The Sweater
There really is no other way but straight through. Paul could take a left but that would pull him so far off his chosen course that he'd end up hours behind. Days, maybe. The scenic route is awfully tempting though, especially since the alternative is mind numbingly flat and boring; at this rate stimulation is key. He's been nodding off for the last few hours and jolting himself awake with blaring satellite dance music, windows rolled wide open and copious amounts of glow in the dark energy drinks. Coffee stopped working back in the eastern standard time zone. Not much farther now; 400 kilometres to go then a final 20 or 25 winding through the downtown core proper. If he heads to the coastal highway, he'll add at least another hour. Tempting to pull off at the point, unhook his board and paddle out for a while. To the island even, camp for a night. Maybe never come back. Forage, make do. Build a shelter, light a fire, dig in. Disappear. Start over, once again. If you asked ...