Fast forward 6 months. Two has grown to four, Harper's brother thought we should start a gang, thus the scumbuckets were established. Neat flags included. Craigslist-specials, obscure parts bills, last minute repairs, street legal tires, and beer tabs quickly dent the already dull finish of our meager savings. Mike, Matt and I leave Seattle, and are riding like banshees on overloaded and underpowered bikes towards Glacier Nat'l Park to meet Harper. We hadn't spoken with him in four days, all we had was a remote location in the middle of Glacier with a rendevous date. In true scumbucket style, we arrive an hour after Harper, only to find him sitting on the picnic table reading Hemingway.