My cap was white, with grass stains, a pair of crossed US and Canadian flags, and the logo of the North Country Golf Club.
I bought my cap on a summer's day in Rouse's Point, New York, after a morning playing golf with friends.
I bought my cap just about a mile from the US/Canada border; about as far north in the US as I have been.
My cap traveled with me on water, up mountains, and onto golf courses in several states.
My cap flew with me to St. Thomas for a sun-filled, but fateful, vacation week.
My cap went to sea with me one Wednesday afternoon, flying over the chop on a jet ski.
My cap clung to my head as the wind and spray whipped past us.
My cap let go when I turned into the wind from Spring Bay and opened-up the throttle.
My cap flew away behind me. and was lost in the channel between Thatch Kay and St. Thomas.
My cap sank into the water about 1,900 miles -- as the crow flies, though crows don't wear caps -- from where I bought it.
My cap, bought almost as far north as I have been, was taken by the sea as far south as I have been.
My name is Mike. Once I had a cap, but I don't anymore.