A new State to explore

It's 6:30 and already the sun has warmed the inside of the tent far passed the 35 degrees I'm used to. The night was so warm that I slept clear through without zipping up my sleeping bag.

'Ahhhhhh.' An ostentatious yawn escapes my mouth. It's volume is over exaggerated to let my still resting canine know that I'm ready to get up. He glances at me with indifference and plops his head back down. I again try to engage him:

'Guess we're gonna jump right from winter to summer this year, Bud.'

He still refuses to stir. So I jump up, quickly pack everything into our cart and pull the blanket out from under him. He moans, protesting my move to sequester his cushioning and then takes a few steps forward and again flops down in the grass. Little does he know that I've got a full day of walking planned.

We leave Wibaux behind and make our way south on highway 7 for a few miles. It's busier than I'd expected, but no worries, we're soon off it on some back roads. Here the pace slows substantially. The constant concern over traffic is gone. Perhaps one vehicle passes per hour, but other than that, it's just me, Buddy, and the dusty road.

After a few hours we come to a sign that says 'Golden Valley County' and I figure we must be at the State line. The color of the soil is changing with each mile; it's growing darker and leaving thick tracers on the veins of my legs so that they appear to protrude more than they actually do.

In the town of Beach, I have a bite to eat and try to get my bearings on Google Maps. 'Right,' I say to Bud, 'another eight miles or so and we'll call it a day.

So we go further and arrive in the town of Sentinel Butte (population: about 70). There in the center of town a sign informs passer-byers that General Custer passed by this way with the ill fated 7th battalion in May of 1876 as they proceeded to the infamously doomed battle. I, however, am more interested in finding a place to pitch tent. So, going into the store opposite the sign, I inquire from a group of ladies whether they might know of any place nearby.

We're in luck. Not only do they suggest a great spot next to the town pavilion, but Sue also invites me to share in a community potluck. Apparently, lots of folks had gotten together to clean up the town cemetery and were going to have some supper together when the work had all been done. So, once again I am the recipient of good stuff, coming from good people. First impressions suggest that North Dakota is going to be a pleasure.