Day One-Hundred-Thirty-Five, Poof

It was still dark when I woke up. I packed up in record time. Then sat where I was for an hour or two, eating my bread and cheese. It was a beautiful day, warm and fine. I hated to ruin it by walking.

But as it turned out I was strong today. I jogged into Centerville, Iowa. And had my daily hamburger at the Bluebird Family Restaurant. The waitresses were kind to me. I had too pumpkin pie. Which on the whole is overrated but it hit the spot at the time.

The owner promised to make me famous on his Facebook page. Great Customers I Have Known. He interviewed me and took my picture. That'll sharpen some appetites. But I was flattered by their interest. Not everything has to make sense.

There was a kid there playing with a yo-yo. He is a Great Customer too. And it seems the champion of the Iowa State Fair. He wasn't giving any kind of performance. He was just messing around. But he was a wizard with that little thing. I have never seen anything like it. But in the end it's just a yo-yo, and I think a waste of talent. He ought to go into neurosurgery. Or learn to play the banjo.

I wandered over to the library to look at a Missouri map. I have no clear idea where I go from here. Missouri is a mess. The roads all go squiggling this way and that, and none go the way that I'm headed. And the hillbilly vibe is strong enough here that Missouri just has me scared. My glib sophistication may not serve me down there. I may get dragged from a truck.

But I'll worry about that as soon as it happens. The library itself was nice. It is a hundred years old and topped with a dome made wholly of stained glass. It is a great ugly building from the outside, but impressive nevertheless. And seems to scream literacy where that call may not often be heard.

I hit the supermarket for more bread and cheese. I am tiring of that meal some. There was a time early on when I was fully convinced that Pop-tarts were my miracle food. But I got sick of them in short order. Then it was yogurt pretzels. Now the very thought of them makes me sick. I did manage to get some bagels. Though it is possible I was deceived. They look like bagels; it says bagels on the bag, but they're really just bagel-shaped bread. And not even such good bread at that. It sticks to the back of my teeth. But it could be worse; I could be back to buns and potted meat.

I bought too some sports drink. It is of an off brand. It may have fermented some. I am less than inebriated but it tastes just faintly of gin. Or maybe what prisoners make in their toilets from things bought in the canteen. And it rather seems to make me thirsty. I think they are missing the point.

It was a discount supermarket. The lady asked if I wanted a plastic bag. I usually say no but they do come in handy to keep this item dry or that. Sure, I say and she says I can have one. "That'll be eleven cents."

After that I didn't want it any more, but I paid her anyway. You wouldn't guess it but I do have my pride. I didn't want her to think I'm cheap. But I did find a nickel some ways down the road. So it is almost half paid for. I'm glad I didn't want a shopping cart. Shopping carts cost a quarter.

It all reminded me very much of domestic airline travel. Which is in itself a good argument for a high-speed rail system.

The road got narrow just east of town, with a very narrow shoulder. Which droppped so steeply away that if I had had to dive I may have broken my neck. It was a little hairy but my legs were strong. I was in a fine walking mood. I put in another ten or twelve miles and then, poof, it got dark.

I long for the days when I had some warning. It makes camping something of a trick. If I walk until sundown as I like to do I have no time to put up my tent. Today though I found a goodish spot, deep in amongst some trees. But my tent will be soggy in the morning and there are all sorts of creatures about. I couldn't say which but I can hear them. I saw one of them today. It was furry and shaped like a rugby ball and walked by me quite unafraid. I could distinguish no features. It had a tail. Beyond that I've got nothing to offer.

And I am certain there are dozens of snakes about. There are sure a lot of them on the road. Dead to a man but there've been hundreds of them. Hundreds of them, I swear. This is the snakiest stretch I've met, curse their vile slithering hides. I am certain their cousins are at this moment trying to crawl into my tent.

And the coyotes are howling some ways off. I've come to see them as friends. They give my life some atmosphere. They're there more often than not. Maybe three nights in four I hear them singing, from the very start of this trip. Say what you will of America, we've got plenty of coyotes.

It's a Halloweeny sort of place this. The moon is bright through the trees. Which have lost their leaves and make eerie shadows on every wall of my tent. But it doesn't bother me in the least. My fears are of a more practical kind.

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