Day Seventy-Seven, Of Course, Of Course

I woke up early, very early. It must have been four a.m. In a nod to now classic cinema there was a horse's head in my bed. Attached to a horse, for what it's worth. I was still rather taken aback. I am not what you'd call a horsey person and I do like to get my rest.

My tent was right up against a fence. Beyond that were miles of grass. There weren't any horses in the neighborhood when I turned in for the night. She must have spotted me in the wee hours and trotted over to see what was up. When I did not respond to her initial courtesies she stuck her nose between the wires blew kisses at me through my mosquito netting.

I was rolled the opposite way, dreaming I was beset by goats. I'd heard the hoofbeats and made my best guess. Not bad for being asleep. I woke up quick when I saw her though. She did not say what she wanted. Sugar cubes or an apple, perhaps. I did not hazard a guess. She may have just wanted company with so many coyotes about.

We have learned that coyotes do not merely howl. They are capable of barking, as well. And now we know they can also scream and make noises much like a turkey. And so they did, for hours and hours and with great enthusiasm.

I tried to sleep but the horse wasn't having it. She rattled her lips at me. She breathed like Lord Vader and pounded her hooves hard against the ground. You could feel it ten feet away. After half an hour she left. I guess she was just curious about me. I didn't know horses got curious.

I was back on the road by nine or so, a comparatively early day. My toe still hurts like the very devil but shows some signs of healing. But overnight a my left heel cracked wide open and left a ghastly deep hole I won't burden you with further details. Just now I am in jaw-grinding pain. Maybe my friend the snoopy horse was offering me a ride.

But I'm no cheater, I hobbled and limped the thirteen miles to Lame Deer, Montana. On the way I met the charming Mrs. Soldier Wolf who gave me water and peanut bars. And who took my picture on the off chance I'll be famous one day. Madam, I'll do my best.

And I chatted with a Mr. Atkins, shall I say Officer Atkins, of the Montana Department of Transportation. He's a truck cop, out to find those overweight rigs that are trying to sneak around the truck scales on the interstate. I guess he was just curious about me but when he pulled over I thought I was being rousted by the Tribal Police.

I have no evidence the Tribal Police are in the habit of rousting people, but you prepare yourself for every contingency. He was at any rate polite and encouraging, but he had a coppy manner. I get a little nervous around law enforcement whether I am transporting heroin or not.

And I met Ferdinand, a kindly gent, who offered to give me a ride. That declined he promised to pray for me and I did not discourage him. I like the name Ferdinand as it puts me in the mind of Ferdinand the Cow, the children's book. He was I guess technically a bull, but he had latent cowlike tendencies.

Find me now at the Lame Deer Indian Casino, shivering like a penguin. It's hot outside and cold in here. Either way I lose. Soon enough I'm back out on wounded feet. I dread it with all my heart.

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On my way to Lame Deer I crawled out of the praire and into some piney hills. Mountains you could probably call them. They are plenty steep enough. But I do rather like the change of scene and they do offer a rare bit of shade.

Out of Lame Deer was another hill. This one I will call a mountain. With an extra lane for uphill traffic and a place to put on your chains. They carved that extra lane out of the shoulder hich leaves me no place to walk. Fortunately traffic was light. When cars came I climbed into the ditch.

At the top of this mointain, it must have a name, the trees get decidedly thin. And you can see for miles and miles. It is just a little bit cold. For here I am camped, just over the summit, nine miles from Ashland, Montana. From there it is another forty-five mile crossing and I'm not sure I'm up for it.

I was stunned at what I saw in my reflection today. I look even worse than I feel. My eyes are sunken and my face is blotchy. I'm covered in little red dots. And my beard has grown wildly out of control and does not compliment me at all. I have been at my limit for too many days. I really could do with a break.


MISS JESSIE who runs the store at Busby was telling me what its like to be with child. Don't blame her; I asked; I was curious. As curious as a horse. She said the worst thing by far was the morning sickness. I listened as she checked off the symptoms. It is more or less like I feel now. Uh oh.

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