Funny thing about this photograph: I know exactly where it was taken because I ran there multiple times. It's Ketchum, Idaho, where Hemingway killed himself, and where he is buried, on the road that runs past Sun Valley. It's a pretty good altitude, but it took me a day or two to remember that, which meant that I was really puzzled by how lousy I felt running in the morning. I attributed it, at first, to the fact that it was hilly, but it was actually because the air had no air in it. Hemingway's cocktail, Death in the Gulf Stream, is all over the internets today for some reason-- gin over crushed ice, with four dashes of bitters and the juice and crushed peel of a lime it sounds like the kind of thing you'd have when a handle of vodka wouldn't be properly refreshing.