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I Blame the Evolution

mestia shack
It's a little old place where we can get together.

I have sweat glands, so if I’m panting I’m really hot. And tired. And, let’s face it, a little out of shape. Robin and I wanted to blame the elevation, but there were two faults with this theory: (1) we’re only at about 6,000 feet, and (2) I kept calling it evolution.

Which, actually, may be more accurate. Evolution is responsible for my inability to dash up the steep hillside rising quickly off the edge of Mestia. If I still had to chase antelope in bare feet and—according to Tea Party historians—flee from dinosaurs, this would be a piece of cake.

See complete Svaneti photos on my flickr page.

svan children
I learned a lot about Wisconsin from this girl's shirt. Unfortunately it doesn't mention anything about collective bargaining.

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