Word: greyingly
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Maggie MacLean was standing in the tall, wide doorway of Newell Boat House, just at the line that divides the vast room stacked with boats and oars from the grey pier that slopes gently down to the Charles River. Like the other ten women who stood in a semicircle listening to their coach. Harry Parker, she was wearing gym shorts and a tank top--hers was grey, with blue letters that said "U.S.A. Rowing Team Camp." But unlike the others, on her large, strong hands she wore protective leather gloves...
...With only 493 miles on her she was still practically a virgin, but driving to Ketchum Sun Valley, Idaho would open her up some--about 2400 miles passed between her well-tempered hubs before we called our trip quits. But that wasn't til Tuesday morning when all was grey and cold and clammy and out rotting elk head lashed to the front of the van stunk of urine and flung in our grimy, dog-tired faces chunks of what little flesh remained on its fly-picked skull. Friday was wide and sun-strung. We headed for interstate...
...seamless interstate zipper did plunge to the American root. That what-ever-it-is that winked from under hooded flaps of hot-rolled steel and pierced numb-screaming into the pitch of the flesh-ringed blackness; that fired in ringing engines and hung grey-eyed in their dribbling wake. For a day and a half, Fred and I raced through the tidal hours in his bronze-bodied van, but the American whatever stayed with us always. Caught in its plastic envelope like marbles in a dime-store package, we pressed never-ward with eight cylinders and 287 horsepower, spinning down...
...late afternoon the sky sours--all grey tension and flat light. Pulling into Tower Junction, we look for 6-10, a Park Ranger who went to school with Fred. The Park Service people live in a ratty cove of mobile homes parked on a patch of mud and gravel. Out of a faded beige unit, Briggs, Fred's exroommate and my future roommate in Ketchum, steps. He's broken up with his girlfriend so he hitched up from Ketchum--about seven hours away--to do some fishing. The streams are high and muddy, and the trout few, 6-10 gets...
...arrived at Briggs' and my shack in Ketchum. The day dawned rainy and grey in Sun Valley. For the next five days it stayed rainy and grey. In a field in front of Fred's apartment, the elk head lies as Fred ponders how to cure...