Thursday, October 20, 2011

Going to the Club in Yankton.

It's not too much of a stretch to say we needed a break from the long wind filled days on the prairie. Since the day we left the head waters of the Mississippi the roads began to flatten. At the rim of the Red River Valley I experienced the opposite shock which "flat-landers" get when enclosed by the hills, hollars' and woods back East; the valley was flat as a plate of glass. Walking in North Dakota was like a slow motion "Tron grid" and it was a welcome change when roads began to have an occasional turn and the scenery had hills and valleys. The South Dakota I walked through did have flat areas, but nothing so level as the north...

I had walked my longest distance in a day and yesterday set out to walk the final few miles to the border of South Dakota and Nebraska, as close to the bridge as I could get and find a place to stop. I planned then to take a day to rest. I was walking down Yankton's Broadwsy-US81-Meridian Highway-Tom Brokaw BLvd. when a man called from across the broad way that is surely unrecognizable to the road Tom Brokaw grew up knowing in his home town. The man called for me to stop, put on a jacket before coming over to talk, so I settled in for a conversation. We talked for awhile and he then invited me over to the club to meet everyone. Not everyone had shown up yet so we had enough time to ride back to get the support van before I was ushered into the back room to see the gang. It was at least twenty minutes before I was able to get a drink for all the explanations and questions. That tall cold drink was welcome when I was finally able to have a moment from the crowd. A long cool drink of water does hit the spot after holding the attention of a roomful of youngsters at The Boys and Girls Club...
I think they learned something more than when to stay out of a dog fight.

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