Singing in the Rain

Sept. 1
After dinking around in Point for a few days I made it back out on the trail. I stopped for lunch at a new place in BBQ place in Rosholt, pretty good stuff! If that had been the end of the day, the owner said he would've let me stay in the apartment upstairs. Darn! Alas, more roadwalk was ahead of me. You may wonder what I think about while I walk for hours and hours each day, well this line from Blazing Saddles sums it up: "My mind is aglow with whirling transient nodes of thought, careening through a cosmic vapor of invention." (ditto!) I only wish. I've been losing it a bit lately. Today I was thinking about how the willow is the Rastafarian/hippie of trees. Its leaves hang down like dreadlocks swaying to the rhythm of the wind. Speaking of wind, there is something comforting about pine trees and in general evergreens. No matter the season, the sound of the wind passing through their needles never changes. Oaks, maples, and ashes all change the tune they sing but not the pine, they always whisper with the same voice. Oaks sound like any other deciduous tree in the summer, but the fall colors change the noise to a rustle. Aspens flutter in the breeze until Autumn strips them bare. As you can see not a lot of deep thought is going on...

Sept. 2
I woke to a world shrouded in mist. The rain from the night hung on the branches and grass making the color a little less vibrant. Rain was in the forecast today. I passed a lady standing with her kids, waiting for the bus, who told me the heavy rain would hit in 2 hours. The next lady I talked to, said tomorrow was going to be even worse, rain, wind and temps around 60. Oh great. The impending rain quickened my pace. I hoped to make it to Hatley and shelter before it hit, but that was not to be. The lady was almost dead on with her rain prediction. Good thing I'm not a witch because I got soaked! There was no melting and according to the scale, I weighed more than a duck. The rain came down in sheets, drenching my wide-brimmed hat to the point that it drooped down around my head under the weight of the rain. I made it to Hatley, hoping to find a laundrymat, but no such luck. Oh well! I'm making a run to the Dells of the Eau Claire by the end of the day, but that's 16 miles away still. I'll see what I can do!