Bank Consultant by Day....Trail-Blazer by Weekend

As I mentioned before, when my Dad gets to the Farm, he escapes from his every day self. Some people relieve stress by working out (me), others by painting and creating art (Kyle), others by riding their motorcycles (Josh) and some by mowing and taming the wild landscape. The latter is my Dad. He gets out there in his grubby polos and grubby jeans and even grubbier tennis shoes, climbs aboard Big Blue and takes off. From the farmhouse door, he can be seen in the distance hauling brush, burning bonfires of said brush, clearing trails, mowing the meadows...he comes in only to eat and kill fire ants (his other hobby). I love seeing him cruise by the door with the wind in his hair, his cheeks slightly burnt from the sun with a look on his face that's a perfect blend of contentment and something a little more barbaric...a little William Wallace, the guardian of his land.

It occurred to me that other men take to the road on their Hogs to escape the rat race on the weekends. My Dad is also a weekend warrior, but from the back of Big Blue.