Yesterday I biked to the Quechee Gorge to make some reference sketches and photos. One thing about biking anywhere from White River Jct is it’s all uphill from here. At least that means the ride home all just coasting under trees. There’s one other thing to know about the area. A sign for a bike route can be distracting, luring a young cartoonist away from his quarry (which in this case was a gorge) and down through twisting condominium lanes, golf courses, and farm roads. Take a look at the ridiculous course I took. Anyhow, all told I biked about twenty-five miles. And it felt great! Except for my grundle. And I came along in figuring out the act of cartooning rocks and rapids (without just ripping off Bill Watterson, Jeff Smith or Looney Tunes {all of which will probs also happen [brackets]}).
The upshot:
This is what happens to a bedroom/studio when a person gets home from MoCCA on Monday, talks to Douglas Wolk; does laundry and hobnobs at the bar on Tuesday; goes out on his bike all of Wednesday, and comes home to find his clothes still damp.
The outcome:
