Not much happened along the road. Just a few people stopped for a photo. Most simply stopped, snapped and thanked me as they drove on. A man who I had met in Hazen stopped three times to chat and even brought me a subway sandwich. He was originally from Connecticut, though he had a southern twang his nor'easter habits gave him away. Asking if I was "all set" and knowing what a "grinder" was gave him away, aside from stopping and being outwardly sociable three times. Somehow that is not atop the list 'round here a'. As I walked in Carlisle I did meet a woman who knew where I could park for the night. A vacant lot with just a concrete slab,,, all that was left of their family business after a tornado a few years ago. I was a perfect spot with a small bunch of willows. With help from the chatterbox of Hazen, an import from California I got a ride back to get the van. I didn't get to say much. Same as the Connecticut Cowboy,or me, you can take the girl out of the valley but you can't take the valley out of the girl. I am joking when I say all of this.
Whatever (roll of the eyes).
At the end of the day a man and his wife brought me fruit and a hot plate of pork chops and greens and a young woman came to find me and tell me her father had recently been diagnosed with adult onset diabetes which scared her enough to start dieting and walking. She now is up to ten miles a day and has lost and incredible amount of weight. The hardest part is her father is doing little to manage his condition...
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