Day Thirty-Six, Lather, Rinse & Repeat

I walked all of ten miles today and checked into a motel. I don't feel so very much ashamed. I needed a shower and to wash all my clothes. I was starting to get a bit blotchy. And I had sewing to do and gear to dry out. It was time to come in from the cold.

Find me now in Plains, Montana. A not unfriendly little town. I was met at the edge of town by a Mrs. Von Heeder, who promptly bought me lunch. Or ordered her daughter-in-law to buy me lunch, which did not make it any less tasty. I had thirty-seven glasses of Coke, as well. A very fine meal, indeed.

Mrs. Von Heeder has been married for fifty years and has five sons living in the area. She was passing the day with Kelsey, her granddaughter, who recently completed the first grade and celebrated by riding her bicycle into traffic and being hit by a car. She bonked her head and scraped her chin and broke her arm. She seemed pretty cheerful about it. I only hope that when I am hit by a car I exhibit that same fortitude.

"I love Glen Beck," Mrs. Von Heeder warned me. I think she was worried I might be a Bolshevik. "You like Obama?" she wanted to know.

"Better than the last guy," I told her.

"I can see that," she was forced to admit. We talked while I ate my burger. She was going to have the local newspaper interview me but he had taken the day off. Sad, that. I would have rather liked being in the newspaper.

Plains seems to be making an effort to rename itself "Wild Horse Plains." I don't blame it. That's a tough name for a town. "Plains" just seems so plain. But I am happy here, for the time being. Tomorrow it's back on the road.


DISCOVERED a new rodent, a sort of badger squirrel rock chucky sort of gopher. I have named it the James weasel.

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