Hammer Corner

As I walked closer to the town of Hammer some of the trees I noticed were beginning to turn to their fall color. I was told there was only one family still living there and that it was a ghost town. I met the nephew who asked my mission, he said he would let his relatives know I'd be around. When I was within sight of the intersection a one armed farmer on an ancient tractor rolled by and then began to cut the grass along the roadway on the opposite side of the highway heading to the "Hammer Corner". Then two other vehicles stopped on the road and people got out along with the man on the tractor who had stopped to walk over to me. A traffic jamb on the edge of a ghost town in South Dakota. (who'da thunk?) I had them all laughing when the school bus rolled to a stop and fielded the questions by the school kids. How long had I been walking? Forty eight years. And other questions like how did I loose the top knuckle of my finger? The dog bit it off. I asked the one armed farmer where I could stay that was as close to the corner and he said I could sleep by the line of trees bordering the cemetery and there I would get a brake from the North winds. After satisfying everyones curiosity asking them to all go for a walk I made my way to the graveyard and had a few minutes to relax before I got my ride back to Rosholt fifteen miles back. Since I was in a ghost town why not stay with the Hammer family at their place. Thrier final resting place. Later when I had returned with the van and the sun made the shadows long the pines were dancing with the strong winds and I saw someone walk onto the grounds from between the row of trees I had parked by. The person sort of pulled up as if surprised to see us, then vanished from the corner of my eye as I looked dierectly at him. I had said hello to the generations of Hammer's when I walked up, this one was obviously late for the party. This was not my first stay in a cemetery. Some just can not rest. As the night wore on the van rocked and bumped with the autumnal northerly. The pines danced a happy 'jig all night. When I returned for the van this evening it was surrounded by a deep bed of fresh brown leaves brought in by the 'hammering winds.

respect the direction

This road goes west for another five miles before it turns south. Tomorrow the wind is said to be very strong so I am" puttin' the hammer down" to Hammer. I hear there is a place where car pool riders leave vehicles. It will get me within walking distance of Sisseton if the wind will let me.

Rosholt SD

After walking into South Dakota yesterday I stopped and was allowed to stay at the Hutterite Colony (I hope I spelled that correctly). The children there were fun to talk to and the leader was very kind to give me hospitality. Gracious thanks Joe!
Today I walked to Rosholt and spoke to the whole student body where I anwered questions for quite awhile. I then walked to the opposite corner of town and visited the elderly at both the facilities there. I then reurned to the schools parking area where I had spotted the van. I touched up the world with paint and a couple small patches. I would say more of the day but I am drained from talking to so many folks during the afternoon. Many thanks to the townspeople and the school for letting me have a place to rest for the evening. Tomorrow I am planning to get to Effington.
Goodnight South Dakota.

Elmer's Revenge.

In the time between my host dropping me at the van and the time it took me to then drive to town for staples (that's staples, not staples) my host took Nice (the dog) for a walk on his leash with his pugnacious little dog named Elmer following along. He told me he was walking along and Nice (the dog) stopped. By the time he turned to look back Nice had raised his leg and was doing what dogs do, but he was doing on Elmer who was standing underneath... Fast forward to this morning when I had gathered my things and had them on the driveway by the van. When I noticed Elmer raised his leg and had done what dogs do to my backpack. He got his revenge!

Ten Days in North Dakota or Liberty, Terrorists and Bikers...

From the moment I stepped foot over the bridge into North Dakota I had a vision of Liberty like none other in these United States...Fargo's own small scale Statue of liberty. Down the street from the veteran's memorial bridge spanning the Red River a man called me into the hub of activity for all the local geriatric activists... The Mcdonald's. The man bought me a cup of 'jo and told me of the fifty jobs he had in his life. Fourty nine of which he had been fired from. The other he kept for the forty odd years he had been sober. He then asked if I had been out of the U.S.A. and then informed me he could never leave because he was on the government's "no-fly" list because he had been labeled a terrorist for protesting in front of an abortion clinic..."Can't we all just get along?".
Throughout my stay in North Dakota I found the view broad. Not like I had been warned it would be by most Minnesotans. They told me I'd be run down by the people of the plains, that they'd have no time or patience for me. I found it quite the opposite. I had many long by the side of the highway conversations with all types of citizens and even the most hardened farm hands were more than polite as they barreled by with the beet harvest in tow. Bbrruummmping over the rumble strips to give the World it's room on the road. And the winds gave me my only two days of rest on this journey due to weather. A gift of the plains. Once again I saw how you can't judge your neighbors until you walk amongst them.
On my last day I left from the cozy little compound of a family of harley ridin' bikers. Not what you'd expect of a class notorious for loud exhaust and leather chaps. They were warm and filled with spirit... The Holy Spirit, they were members of The Christian Motorcyclists Association.
All in all I thoroughly enjoyed North Dakota despite some of their neighbors' misconceptions.

A gentle nudge from the Four Winds.

When I received an e-mail a week ago from a teacher at The Circle Of Nations School in Wapeton last Friday inviting me to visit with the children (4th thru 8th grade) I replied saying I would probably be too far West when I got that far South but would come if the winds blew me that way. From that day on all my efforts to forge West were met with Mother Natures helping hand sending me toward the school or pinning me down until I was ready to see things her way. The way to the children at Wahpeton. Once I realized that resistance was futile the winds helped me along.
I arose early Friday to the first official chills of Autumn and began walking the last miles into Wahpeton in the dark under a beautiful star filled sky with just enough light from the moon to shade the fields. As the light of day brightened the morning was filled with visits from all types of good people. A woman brought her kids out to the road for a picture, a man brought tea, a teacher from the school came and we confirmed plans when I got to town. Others brought coffee and hot chocolate to keep me warm (and fuzzy) on my stroll to town. When I was speaking to a reporter from the newspaper in town on the phone a stunningly pretty woman stopped at the business I was standing in front of and waded across the clear water of the ditch to thank me for what I am doing, she and her husband were type-1 diabetics and we had a great talk as Nice (the dog) enjoyed her attention; then she hiked up her slacks and sloshed back across the ditch to her car. I hoped to myself that one day researchers can turn the corner for type-1 diabetes. This was one of those days where talking to people was the order of the day and not miles. A great day to begin the Fall season.
I eventually made my way to the Circle of Nations where I spent the rest of the day. We got the World into the gymnasium where I talked and answered questions. The school staff and the children could not have been more kind and warm to us. I am thankful for the opportunity to visit the children of the Circle of Nations and am humbled by the wisdom of the Wind...

Time

The sunny morning burned the dew from the world while I readied my things for the day. Nice (the dog) wasn't interested at all in getting out of bed, until one of the women came out from the back of the Fort Aber' Saloon. Then he was as enthusiastic as a puppy. We went inside and had breakfast. I had eggs, Nice munched on dog food out of his bucket whenever the ladies came out from their morning chores. It was getting late when I loaded my pack onto my back and walked out of town making time to slowly loosen my stiff old bones while rolling off the road for cars and trucks. The shoulders of 81 are too steep to roll along so would get off and wait until the road was clear. In the distance I could see the Church steeple.
About five miles later I was sitting in the front yard of the old white church. It's side and rear filled with headstones both old and recent. I always pause and take in the cemetery grounds; I have slept in a couple along my journeys; they are cool, even in the heat of summer. The day was clear and I was enjoying the quiet time and the beauty of the fields in harvest time when a man drove in beside us. We talked for a long while, I listened more than I spoke. He had farm and business interests both here and in Africa to help feed people in need. We exchanged stories, shared some positive thoughts about life. He was so impressed with my spirit he offered me work thru the harvest until December, along with lodging and good pay. I then respectfully declined and told him I was walking for diabetes awareness and of my journeys over the last few months. We got along so well I was tempted to accept the offer but instead I took in his visit as a gift; present. He told me of his friend that he had grown up with, of his honesty and goodness. He told me of the wave they shared when passing each other just there at the church a minute before he crashed and died at the bridge down the road. He pointed out his headstone a few yards away. Time passed as we talked, and stood still. We planned to meet again.
I walked on to Dwight and found a spot under a tree in the park that was as large as the town, relaxed and ate a cucumber as I talked to myself about how to get back to the van in 'Aber. Telling myself to be patient I snacked on a handful of sunflower seeds enjoying the quiet time. Just then A woman stopped and got out with her camera. I had watched her drive by along the road but she had missed me; I was hiding in plain sight. Within a few minute she had invited us to stay at her family property on the edge of town and would also ride us to the van. On my way there I was stopped by a couple outside their home and could not resist the offer of a bowl of homemade chicken soup and good conversation. The woman up the road had told me to take my time; that's what I did. It wasn't too long before we had the van safe in Dwight and were sleeping summer away. I awoke early in the morning and was on the road as Autumn began to a clear, crisp, star filled morning. Enjoying the long stretches of quiet time watching the headlights in the distance.
I've spent enough time on this rambling post.

Riding the tide.

After a day of waiting for the winds and rain in Walcott where the weather only got better as the day progressed which was good for my arm but hard on my mind, because I don't like sitting when there are miles to walk, I left this morning to a hard North west wind and cold cloud filled sky. They said it was fifty but the wind made it much cooler. I wore my cap instead of my usual sweat bleached hat so I could keep my ears warm and not have to chase my hat across a beet field. The road to Colfax went so fast I decided to go on to Abercrombie and now I am staying behind the Fort Abercrombie Saloon (great food!) I am tired, sore, and still livin' the dream!

Reading the Signals

When I awoke at three fifteen this morning to a calm and partly clouded sky I had the thought to get up and walk to Colfax. Then my shoulder began to throb and my wrist popped and snapped when I flexed my hand. From the day I rolled over the edge of the Red River Valley whether I was walking West, South, or East the wind has blown in such a way that I have had to push against the world with the same arm, the same hand, the same shoulder. If I had started out in the dark I may have arrived in Colfax and dodged the thirty to fifty mile per hour winds due to blow in from the northwest. I went back to sleep. This morning I got my boots and clothes on and stepped out of the van. Just then it began to rain so I got back in. After awhile I thought I'd give it a try again, then a gust of wind blew the world around to the side of the van. It had been tied to the rear of the van and had not moved all night. I have no illusion that I will make my way down thru the Dakotas without the challenge of wind. If I can keep healthy I'll make it. Conditioning my muscles and letting them rest. Now the mist is rolling in the window while the owl calls from the tree a few feet away. I can take a hint...

To Kindred

After a day of rest due to high winds and an early morning of light rain we started out late from Horace into a ten mile per hour wind. When we turned the corner and headed west for several miles we had an easier time. Then, turning south again, the going slowed. But, we made our way to Kindred just before dark. I slept well and today I am heading to Walcott. My path is both determined by the towns within my range and which direction the winds allow.
Have a great week and find time for a walk.

A day off.

My stubborn ego wants me to push into this wind. No. I just have to be patient, wait for the weather to shift. Then go. Resting my bones, trimming the sails and throwing out the anchor while the wind buffets the van as the World is lashed to the spare tire rack. I will get over a bruised ego faster than a torn shoulder. "Welcome to the wind tunnel."

Horace

This morning was chilly with a strong breeze from the southwest. From the Fargo walmart I was starting out toward the west. My little ball/sail with the leash to the lasing can spin along relatively well tacking to the southwest wind. Wanting to go with the flow I passed the road to Horace but was quickly redirected by "the original Don Johnson". The advice I was given last night, to follow the road west and I would get to a town, would have me heading north so I turned around. Funny that my short meeting with mr.j was worth the walk. Then when I had turned toward Horace the now stronger wind was almost directly against my path south. The bottom of the swail along the side of the roadway was the only way to make southern progress. The shoulders have been cut so I was lucky to be able to roll over just six inches of grass. Most of the Minnesota highway was overgrown because of it's government shutdown this summer and the roads there have large shoulders. Each state has it standards of road design, some older roads, some modern designs with future growth built in like this road out of Fargo. The walk along the ditch line was broken up by the intersecting roads, drives & a bridge. Over these it was all pushing against the hard wind. I was less than two miles to Horace, against the wind I would take hours to get to town.
Then a man pulled up and told me that over two hundred school children where waiting for me at the Horace Elementary School I pushed against the wind for awhile but soon the town sent a man with a pickup truck to assist my struggle and shuttled me to the waiting crowd of kids. There I spoke to them for awhile and answered questions just before the school day ended. I would never have gotten there in time. The wind kept blowing all day and since I was worn out from the past days against the wind tunnel the. School parking lot is where I stayed for the day, my shoulder throbbing but my heart full from the happy kids. Thanks for the break Horace.