Day One-Hundred-Four, Halfway There

I slept until almost ten, Central Time. I was just wiped out. Tired and sore, I was also hungry. That's what woke me up. And I resented it; I'd have liked to keep sleeping for another eight or ten hours.

I had a ten mile walk to town. That's a distance I've been chewing up. But this morning I lacked all strength. It was hot and my feet were sore. And, as I've said, I needed a snack. It is food that keeps me going.

My dad turned up in his little white car. He has been lurking about. He had grown bored with the ambush he'd readied in town and come to find me on the road. He gave me a few sticks of rotten cheese. Yes, rotten. I ate it and felt better. If I'm sick tomorrow, so be it. It was the right thing at the time.

By then I still had seven miles to go. And now an appointment for lunch. Which troubled me some and caused me some stress. I am accustomed to dining alone. And I don't like to keep people waiting for me, whether they deserve it or not.

Still I took my own sweet time. I did not really have much choice. A couple of miles and I was worn out. I stopped under every tree. There were only three or four of them. I was to town by three.

Valentine, Nebraska is not dying out. It is home to almost three-thousand people. Two or three highways meet up there. It is too the county seat. It has fast food and two supermarkets and its own Ford dealership. And a number of motels. My dad was in one. I resisted the urge to walk by.

He had arranged, by some elaborate pretext, for me to use the motel's own washing machines free of charge. My father has long enjoyed spinning little tales in order to get things out of people. Little things, not worth the expense. He is selling his soul for dimes. My own soul may be every bit as ragged, but it went for a much higher price.

It felt wrong but I washed clothes. I enjoyed too a hot shower. Conversation was kept to a minimum which was very much for the best. What there was was civil enough. There are times when it pays to be bland. It could have gone worse and it has. Maybe it is as he claims, that he's mellowed with age. Less likely things have occurred. Or maybe he spotted the real chance of my punching him in the mouth. Neither possibility would wholly displease me, though I reserve my right to a preference.

We had a big dinner at Pizza Hut. I did most of the eating. And took away a few slabs of pizza to enjoy on tomorrow's hike. One less now; I've eaten it. Pizza is good food.

I was back on the road at seven o'clock. That's six in the Rocky Mountains. I had showered and shaved. My clothes were clean and I had gotten plenty to eat. And I had not pounded any old men into a bloody pile of stink. You see, I am not so very hard to please. We'll call today a success.

In the end I walked only fifteen miles. For this sort of day that's enough. And averaged with yesterday's long haul I am still up over the top. By evening most of my strength had returned. I could have walked fifteen more miles. If I had had the daylight to work with. As it was I did not.

It was a nice walk, though, down a steep hill and across the Something-or-Other River. I remember it had lots of vowels in it and looked fairly hard to pronounce. Niobarabriararala, or something along those lines. It is fairly wide, at any rate, and is home to all manner of trees. Pretty. I crossed it on a very tall highway bridge.

The trail that's been running along Highway 20 takes on new life at Valentine. I wish I had known; I'd have been on it. Here it is finished with compacted crushed rock. And it crosses the river on an old wooden trestle, 150 feet in the air. I would have liked to try that. Sometimes it is good to be scared.

I picked it up on the other side. I am not sure quite where it goes. So far it is sticking close to the highway but out of sight of the cars. Through the Sand Hills, which I quite like. I do not quite know why. They are not much unlike that stretch east of Billings that came close to doing me in.

The sky here is smaller; there's an intimacy. And it is not nearly so hot. And my feet do complain but not as much. And I'm meeting some friendly cows. And being more or less in the wilderness, I can camp wherever I like. I am hiding; I don't know the rules. But the sand is invitingly soft.

I HAVE BEEN listening to a sort of public radio station out of the Sioux Nation. They play some good rock and roll, interspersed with quaintly personal public service messages and traditional Sioux music. All tom-toms and screaming chants, hiya-ya-ya and such. I really like it. They do a wicked Happy Birthday To You in the Sioux style which I really want to download. Find it yourself if you can. Today I heard a version of The Wheels on the Bus that will haunt me for some time.

I SAW TODAY a little turtle with a long rat-like tail. I'd have taken his picture but he was just so ugly, I did not want to add to his shame. He had trapped himself in a knot of grass. I picked him up and put him in a puddle.

THE COWBOY TRAIL, it is called. Good enough.

BREAK OUT your calipers and check the distance from Valentine, Nebraska to the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. I think you'll be impressed.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4