Still, they don't write a chorus like iForward, Russia! does.

Day NinetyEight, September 23, 0 Miles
At Mile 1947, Poptart 720/1000
Nice zero. No rain, yesterday's weather has passed these mountains by. Pagosa Springs is perhaps the friendliest town yet and my favourite. Ate a burger. Oh, wait, no, but I tried. RT ate a burger. He destroyed it. Two pounds of meat and a pound of bun and fun. Plus half of his pound of fries. It was called the Monster. RT was the monster. I was coaxed by my three friends and my stupid foodego into the never-before-finished "Double Monster". It was placed in front of me, imposingly, the size of my giant head. With a pound of fries.
"I got it."
Nah.
Same as the monster, just double meat. 'Just', in this case, representing four pounds of hamburger patty. Plus the extra two, a total of six pounds of food.
My plan of attack was some fries, half the meat, the eat the burger like a burger. Throwing down mouthfuls of fries and water. Easy right?
Nah.
Took out half the meat, good, hot, juicy. Needed saucing but I got this. A pound in...
Nah.
I had an hour.
Ended up getting about three quarters through and impressing the chef enough for the both of us to get a free t-shirt. I still had to, for the first and hopefully last time in my life, pay $30 for a burger. RT, Hawkeye and Kombucha had pitched in though, just to watch. It eased the pain a little. Didn't feel too full, but couldn't eat another bite. You can't force burger and bun like you can ice-cream and cake. Don't work like that kid. Good burger though, actually the best I've had in a long time.
So I got the carry out container and carried my failure back to the hotel. Tomorrow.

Yeah, I got photos. When I get to a computer that has a card reader.