Another long day

22:00

'Ahhhh! A shower is a wonderful thing,' I think, leaning against the wall and letting the hot water run over me. In my younger days I would have considered 9 days without a shower as just another bohemian freedom of hippies, but now I've determined it's just gross. At the end of a long day, Bud's passed out on the carpet; I crawl into a warm bed and drift off to sleep.

8:30 am that morning

Starting me off in the right direction, Curtiss points to the coffee and we have a small chat. Buddy's outside playing enthusiastically with a new friend (a black lab that appears to have chewed through his restraints). Today the goal's to go a mere 18 miles to the junction at Vaugn, so we're not in a huge rush. On the road by 9:45, we've got some clumsy company tagging along. I'm glad Bud's found a friend, but this Lab seems downright dumb, walking back and forth in both lanes and stopping traffic by standing in front of oncoming vehicles. Bud goes on the leash for a while cause I don't want him imitating that kind of behavior. However, after about 5 miles the other dog dashes off into a field and doesn't come back. So, Buddy's free to roam off the shoulder again.

We stop for a break after about ten miles at a sort of independently run wetlands that's being drained due to the constant badgering of environmental protection agencies, weird right? Anyway, along comes one Mr Doug Rorr (spl?) who's brought some delightfully good strawberry cake the Mrs sent. We get to talking, and he shares a little bit out of the wisdom of his experience and encourages me to finish this trek and get it out of my system. I thank him, and we part ways amicably.

Not too far away, Bud finds what looks to be a pond, so I tell him to go grab a drink. When he comes back, he's stained a dark navy blue that I recognize from childhood trips to Prineville and the chemicals we dumped in the outhouses.

'Oh Bud! What have you done?'

It looks like he's rolled around in the filth, and the smile on his face seems to say that he's quite happy with himself. When we get to the gas station in Vaugn, Kathy Dunn, the cashier, tells me that that's the septic pit for the town. Would have been nice if the city had posted a sign.

Well, I wash him off as best as possible, and decide to keep going on to Great Falls since there's not really a place to camp in Vaugn. Outside of the city we meet Bridget. She'd seen us walking all day and pulled over to see what was happening. I give her a card and she's very encouraging toward the cause. Even offers to give us a ride. But we politely decline and she pulls away shouting, 'Rock on!' (I think.)

Then, only a few minutes later and we're talking to a group of guys at a crossroads. They offer some cash, but I refer them to the card and explain about the work FH does. So they promise to check it out.

By this time it's dark. We've gone at least 30 miles, we're tired, and the KOA is on the other side of the city. So rather than going further, I stop there on the fringes of town at the Starlit Motel to see if we can get a room that will fit my budget. Pure providence! The owner, Darrin Davenport, is very accommodating and when he learns about what we're doing, he donates all kinds of goodies, including a big elk sausage processed somewhere nearby.

There are awesome people everywhere.