I peered outside. A number of deer had gathered outside my tent. I was flattered by their faith in me but I encouraged them to go. And it took some doing. They wanted to stay. I worried they might draw fire. Five minutes after I scared them off I heard a rifle shot.
So one of them got it. He might have been safe if I had allowed him to stay. My cowardice cost him is life. I am ashamed of myself. That's the thing about human weakness. Someone always gets hurt.
I have woken before to a dusting of frost. It is easily shaken off. But in this case my tent was frozen solid. It did not want to fold up. And was crueler to my poor fingers than my tentpoles have ever been. I walked to Corinth, Mississippi and checked into a motel.
I did find some coffee halfway there at a small shop on the state line. They sell beer and lottery tickets. I sat there for an hour or so. And chatted with Miss Sue, a grandmother. She's in charge of things. The counter was dusted with lottery scratchings. People spent twenty dollars at a time.
A lot of people. No one won. This is Buford Pusser country. You might know him from Walking Tall. He was the local sheriff. He cleaned up the county. He beat people with a great big stick. The Dixie Mafia murdered his wife. It was all about gambling.
I'm told too there's moonshine in these parts, only a phone call away. Mostly out of tradition, I'd guess. I don't know how good it is. I'll try a shot if somebody offers, just for the science of it.
My motel is neither cheap nor comfortable, but I am warm and it is cold outside. I spread out my gear and the ice was still there, half a day after the fact. I got a little laundry done. I took two long hot showers. It will drop into the mid-twenties tonight. I am happy to be indoors.
MY BACKPACK is a little better off. I've just got to get used to the pain. Either I'll build some new muscles or I'll cripple myself for life.
MY LITTLE computer still has its problems. Samsung and Droid still suck.
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