Thursday, July 16, 2015
When I awoke at dawn I realized that the laundry I had washed In Woodstock had begun to sour the inside of the van. I hadn't had clothes smell worse after washing since I mixed my teenaged son's clothes with mine years before. This time I didn't smell of teenaged boy, but suddenly felt I had, overnight, gone through Old-man-a-pause. Before I started walking I draped the clothes I had worn the day before outside the van, but the damage was done. When I had made my way to the northern side of Rhinebeck I found a laundromat, got a ride the few miles back to the van, and I washed everything I could. I washed all the clothes, blankets and towels, even the backpack. I used bleach, even on colors, to get the smell out. I bought air-fresheners and sprayed the interior of the van. When I was finally satisfied there was no more I could do, I still had enough of the day to walk so I continued on to the far edge of town and ended at the Rhinebeck Roadhouse. The business was closed but the large parking lot was perfect to have a two gallon bath late that night. The next morning the van, and I were smelling clean.