First full day on the Island

So I flew in yesterday and had a few cocktails with the usual suspects.
Tourism is down here... like flat to the floor down.
Ochi is having their Cruise Ships detoured for a reason I haven't been concerned enough to ask about and prices are up, way up.

I tried to get my phone situation sorted out last night via Skype on my mobile... right as we got things taken care of the line dropped, more or less I walked talked out of range during my usual pacing.

I got everything sorted out with C's arrival with her over the phone during a rum-infused babbling session about how hot it is and other anecdotal quips.

I woke at about 1:30am with rum remnants thumping my temples; my only thought was My God, it's Hot. After a few glasses of water later I listlessly fiddled with the television while I tried to think of a way to doze back off to for another couple of hours.

My alarm had been set for 4:45am to wake and ride with P&A for the hour and a half drive to the MoBay airport.

They were flying out early that morning to visit friends and I was in charge of taking their car safely back to Ocho Rios.

Left hand driving, for the most part, came to me naturally; the only hesitation I had initially was remembering that I needed to make short left turns and wide right turns. When I'd square up to an intersection or turn into a parking lot, it was a conscious process initially to STAY LEFT. Other than that it was business as usual. I took naturally to the Jamaican system of constructive hand gestures, headlight flashes and car horn taps. It was a very expressive and effective method of traffic management.

In any case, there I laid; on top of the bed sheets, thinking of a way to cool myself. I grabbed the standing fan that was across the room blowing on me and brought it up against the bed, which helped slightly. I took out my phone and found a few audio podcasts for CarTalk I had recorded. I dug out my headphones, and pushed play, hoping the Tap It Brothers could lull me into drifting off.

The next thing I knew the sound of my phone alert was loud and clear over the headphones and what felt like 5 minutes was over two more hours of sleep.

I showered, had some mango for breakfast and was ready to ride along to Montego Bay.

We ended up leaving a few minutes late and P fell into the roll of classic JUTA Jamacian Tourist Shuttle Driver. The experience, which I will leave up to your imagination, embodied the most classic recantings of Jamaican driving style that you've heard from anyone who's survived a Shuttle Bus to their hotel. Simply classic.

My return drive was much more laid back. I was geting hungry for a traditional Ackee and Saltfish breakfast but all of the breakfast bars I passed didn't seem to be open. It was still early, nearly 7am, and so I just kept casually driving with the light traffic while enjoying the sights and smells of the coastal highway.

When I got into Ochi at nearly 8am, I stopped into Soliders Cafe. It's interesting being a white (not-yet-tan) guy in Jamaica. A local dressed in a suit comes bursting into the cafe and says 'mi girl, gimme wan soup please.' Then he turned to me and in a very plain English voice he said, "Hello Sir, How are you doing this morning?" A quick 'Everything good.' back to him gets him smiling and back to his earlier jovial attitude.

Breakfast was good. Prices have gone up in Jamaica. What used to cost 250JMD is now 350 to 400JMD. The local working class has a permanent screw (english translation: frown / dismal outlook.)

I ate breakfast quietly enjoying the hustle and bustle of Main Street.

I spent the rest of the morning tied to my regular job making sure things are getting done and wrapping up a few projects.

I gave Arthur, my barber, a call and decided to head in around 1pm to get a good trim... but I'll pick up on that story in the next blog entry.

Day 3 – Swift Current, SK to Banff, Alberta

August 8^th, 2009

I woke up late this morning at around 9am and proceeded to pack everything up and get ready to continue West to Calgary, AB.

I finally got on the road after stopping at Tim Horton's for coffee and a ham sandwich around 11am.

More big skies and finally some sunny weather. After about an hour of driving I pulled into Gull Lake to fill up with gas again. I drove through town looking for a gas station and finally found a place called the Co-Op. I got out to pump my gas and realized it was full service when the attendant came up and said that they have to pump it. I'm not used to so many full service stations.

The young lady who was pumping my gas was quite friendly and we talked for a bit when I came inside to pay. She said she had a friend she'd met through the internet from Minnesota. Some how we got on the subject of Cds and music and she talked about how she was a Disney Soundtrack geek and proceeded to rattle off all of the movies and soundtracks that she had collected. I said that I remember watching the Jungle Book and Robin Hood as a kid and before I could say anything else she broke out in song. She airily sang “Not in Nottingham” from Robin Hood while she was tapping her foot to keep time. About three and a half minutes later while cars were stacked up outside waiting for service she finished the song as suddenly as she started and I bid her good day.

Back on the road it was rather uneventful... more straight road. Eventually I passed through Brooks without incident ( I didn't even speed up.) As the day wore on into the late afternoon I reached the outskirts of Calgary. I thought I'd avoid the hustle and bustle of the big city and fill up now.

After I filled up, I check my dry ice and saw it was about half gone so I went in to use the bathroom and buy some cubed ice. I asked an elderly lady hunched over a counter near the rest room if she was in line and she rudely yelled, “Hell No!” Ok... After I'd grabbed some bottled water and ice I went up to the counter and was cut off by the same lady who proceeded to get into a shouting match with the two clerks about how the lottery was ripping her off and that she had a winning ticket. The clerks calmly tried to explain that she had filled out the wrong side of the ticket and it was no applicable to the current lottery. She proceeded to tear up the ticket while the clerks shouted “No No No!” explaining that they needed to void the ticket in one piece. Whoops. While I watched my bag of ice slowly turning to water the clerks proceeded to bust out the Acme Crimelab kit and tape together the shredded ticket. After about another 5 minutes and 3 ice cubes later my goods were rung up and I was on my way.

Entering Calgary was interesting. I'm driving Westernly through farm fields and you can see the skyline of the city in the distance. It's really quite unique. I drove along the TC-1 towards downtown as the traffic thickened. 5 pm rush hour in Calgary really isn't that bad. The traffic is thick, but it keeps moving unlike the Twin Cities or most other major metro areas. I wanted around downtown Calgary and it's clean streets. I drove along the river front where there are bike paths and the zoo. Koala's were the big attraction at the time being constantly announced over the local radio stations. I zipped by the Saddle Dome where the Calgary Flames hockey team plays... yup looks like a saddle in real life too. After meandering through the downtown streets for about a half an hour (even witnessing a wedding photo shoot) I decided to keep moving to Banff so I could get there before dark.

I continued onto the TC-1 towards Banff, Alberta and after driving up out of the valley I could see the Rocky Mountains coming into hazy view.

Getting into Banff I drove around the town. I haven't been to Aspen before, but it really seems like Banff and Aspen would have the same feel. Very touristy / fake. Nobody really lives there an entire town with almost the entire population being transients and the actual locals being recluises.

After driving around and around the 8 blocks of Banff looking for a place to park I pulled off on a side road near the enterance to the town and attempted to call some of the loding leads that were posted on the CouchSurfing website. After unsuccessfully struggling with that, I decided to try the backpackers'

hostel. I've never stayed in a hostel so I have no idea what to expect. When I arrived at the Samesun Backpackers' Hostel there was no where to park, so I drove down the road looking for a place to park and came across the Samesun Chalet hostel. They had open underground parking spots, so I took one and went inside. I inquired about a room. They only had dorm-style beds (6 people to a room) available.

I said, “Ok, what's the cost?”

“$35 a night”, the young female Australian clerk answered.

$35 was much more reasonable than anything else I could find in town which would run me upwards of $125 a night or more.

I took the key for room 201 and went up to claim my bed. Luckily there was only one other person staying in the room at that time and I was able grab a top bunk.

I left a few compression sacks of clothing, turned down the sheets and went down stairs to get some food.

The hostel had a bar inside of the hostel itself called The Beaver. The menus crudely proclaimed Eat (at the) Beaver.

I ordered a chicken wrap which was ok, but the fries were soggy and greasy. The nice thing about the hostel is you make fast friends... especially with beer or food. Two Austrialian guys were nearby, we looked at each other, said “hi” and I offered them french fries. What a great conversation started. The younger brother was Mark and I don't recall the older brother's name right now. I would come to learn that Austrialians make up a large part of the face of the hospitiality industry in Banff.

While having a chat with the front desk clerk about music two men came flying out of the bar and sprawled out on the lobby floor. I moved myself out of way of the grapling duo and watched on as the Australian bouncer, Shady, was pushing a quite stocky, tattooed man with a shaved head out of the building. The front desk clerk began to call the police as the fight continued through the lobby and towards the front door.

The tattooed man had the most unusual fighting style. He would perform a fully extended kick, but would never throw a punch. It was quite odd to watch. Once Shady had shoved the guy towards the door one of the Australian brothers jumped into the fight to help out his countryman. The tattooed man was tossed out of the door and the other brother jumped in. So now there were three Aussies against the kicking bar brawler. After a bit of shoving and posturing between the men, the tattooed man charged towards the front door, intentially kicked at the glass door, shattering it, and then ran off.

The police showed up a short time later with the man in the back of their squad car. The bartender identified him and the squad drove off to the jail with the man in tow.

What an exciting first experience in a hostel. After a bit of chatting outside with Shady and a few other people, I headed upstairs to bed from my first bunkbed experience since I was about 12.

Photos from Williams Lake to Bella Coola

Day 2 - Drake, North Dakota to Swift Current, Saskatchewan

August 7^th, 2009

Woke up at 6am after a 2 hour nap. Ugh, I feel all twitchy and sore... like I slept awkwardly and for very little time. Oh yeah, I slept for two hours and it was in a reclined car seat.

I got out, stretched a bit and then drove over to the diner; still not open. What? I drove back over to the city park where I'd noticed a bathroom the night before. Luckly it was unlocked. After washing my face I jumped back in the car and headed back through town one more time. Still nobody. I decided to stop on Main Street, take a few photos of Drake and then hit the road again. I don't think anybody actually lives in Drake anymore.

I passed through Balfour (no diner,) Velva (no open diner,) Sawyer (no diner,) and then the rain started in. It was pouring buckets, even with the windshield wipers on high it was still hard to see. The local radio station said it was report that rain was falling at a rate of 6”/hour. Now that's flood conditions. I reached Minot, North Dakota aroun 7am and drove through the town looking for a diner. The streets had been turned into creek beds and the water was running down and splashing up against cars. It was crazy, the whole storm sewer system must have been clogged. I drove through the town via the business route and then a second time on Highway 52 and the only restaurant I found was Country Kitchen.

I stopped into County Kitchen where the parking lot lines seemed to be just a meer suggestion. Honestly the worst parking situation I've ever seen in my life. Nobody seemed to care, so I quit caring too and parked with about 1/3 of my car sticking out into the street. I'd have parked farther in, but the car I faced was parked with their drivers door even with the center line of the only parking lane in front of the restaurant. Every pair of cars had some varying degree of “over the line.” Mark it 8 Smokey.

After going in, I ordered the farmer's breakfast and after inhaling it and listening to the table of farmers next to me talk about how they'd drive home drunk during Men's League at the local Golf Course, I was back out on the road headed to Portal, North Dakota.

While driving through Northern North Dakota I drove along the Des Lacs National Wildlife Preserve which was quite beautiful. I also saw a fair number of Oil Dericks (is that how you spell that?) along the way. I think I read a little bit about North Dakota pumping oil when I was in school. From what I saw, oil drilling looks to be a pretty small and pretty independent operation in North Dakota. There weren't fields of devices pumping oil or anything like that.

I reached Portal around 10am and proceeded to enter the Border Crossing area. I received all the standard questions, I declared my 16 cans of Surly Beer that I was bringing over and handed over my new passport. I later learned that they flag new passports for “Identification Verification” and it probably would have been better to hand of my Driver's License. So next time, I'll use my Driver's License when going into Canada and my Passport when coming back to the United States.

I parked my car, brought in my passport, the yellow slip of paper the gal behind the window had handed me and my camera. I proceeded into the office that I was instructed to and sat down to wait for the Border Agent to finish her phone conversation. I sat around for about 15-20 minutes before she got off the phone. She then started in with the standard questions... where you from, where you going, how much money do you have on you, who are you going to see. Things of that nature. She was very good natured about the whole thing and for that I'm glad. I could see this experience could go a lot worse.

I had to consciously remind myself to not make jokes or show any emotion or real interest in the process other than to robotically and honestly answer the questions. She said please hold on a minute and proceded to go to her computer. She came back to me and asked me, “have you ever been convicted of or accused of a crime?” I asked, “Like a speeding ticket or parketing ticket?” She said, “no, have you ever been convicted of a crime?” I asked again, “So you mean if I've been accused or convicted of anything other than a speeding ticket or parking ticket?” She said, “I don't want to know about those. You don't need to tell me about those.” Then she asked again, “Have you ever been convicted of or accused of a crime​?” I answered, “no.” She said, “are you sure?” and I said “Yes. Very sure.” During this whole conversation the agent was fiddling with a white piece of paper in her hands. She asked me to step over to the height measuring chat, that you'd normally see at a convience store. I stood next to it, she reviewed her piece of paper. She looked at her piece of paper, my passport and myself. She repeated this process a few times. She then asked me to recite my Social Security Number, which I did promptly and robotically. I've had it memorized ever since my first paycheck when I was 14.

She looked at me with a smirk on her face and said, “Well, there's a very bad man in Oregon and you match his description perfectly.” I got a bit flush and said, “hmm... well that's definitely not me. I've lived in Minnesota my whole life.”

She proceeded to stamp my piece of paper and told me to see the man at the other counter. I did and was promptly sent on my way into Canada.

I really hope my experience getting back into the United States isn't as worrysome.

As I was driving Northwest on Highway 39 past Estevan and into Weyburn, I heard on the radio that there was a local farmers' market in Weyburn going on at the city centre. I thought it might be a good photo opportunity so I pulled off of Highway 39 and into Weyburn.

I drove up and down the main streets in Weyburn and didn't see much of interest. I did however see Big Jim's Beer and Wine Brewing. Big Jim's looked interesting, I thought it'd be a good place to ask questions about the local beer selection. I conversed with Jim about local beer styles which pretty much consist of Lagers, Ales and Pilsners. I asked him about the microbrew culture in Saskatchewan and he said it is non-existant due to Provincial Law. Apparently at his brew store you can only brew on-site as well.

I got back on the highway and headed North towards Moose Jaw. I listened on the radio as the local news talked about the disappointment of the local populace due to the cancelation of an Aerosmith concert in Winnipeg (the second time Aerosmith had canceled in the last 10 years) and the potential cancelation of the concert in Regina. It seemed to be the top news story of the day. I also learned that last night a van and semi collided and a few were killed on the same highway in North Dakota the previous night. The van had crossed the center line and the semi swerved to miss them, but could not.

There are lots of oil derricks in Southern Saskatchewan and trains and that's about it. Something I've found interesting about these small Canadian towns is that they don't necessarily have post offices as we're familar with them in the States. They'll have a set of metal mail cubbies. Like a 5' or 10' long by 4' high block of them with about 75-150 mail boxes like you'd see inside the post office. Except these are just along side the highway. So the postal service doesn't drop the mail at each rural mailbox, they just drop it in this set of boxes for everybody on the route.

Eventually after a bit more driving, I reached Moose Jaw at around 1pm. Whew, I was tired. It'd be driving for almost 5.5 hours already minus the border stop and breakfast in Minot. I pulled into the information center and looked around. Moose Jaw visitor information center has a giant moose, Mac, I believe is his name. This large cement moose is about 25' tall and weights 2 and a half tons (can you tell I took the tour?) Mac is also anotomically correct, which I thought was an interesting fact. Babe the Blue Ox in Bemidji MN isn't anotomically correct, neither is any other American larger-than-life tourist attraction I've seen. So Mac, the bull moose, is a site to see.

Moose Jaw is also filled with prairie dogs to the point it's comical. Literally anywhere there is a patch of dirt in town there is a prairie dog hole and about a half dozen prairie dogs running around. I quit counting at about 50 and I was just standing in one place. Maybe it was the same prairie dog running through a maze of tunnels just amusing the tourists.

I felt exhausted so as I walked through the visitor center I saw they were offering an old tyme trolley car style tour of Moose Jaw. I spoke with the young lady behind the desk and they said the next tour was leaving in five minutes. I thought, what the heck, and paid my $12 to attend. This would either be very informative or I could at least get in a good hour nap.

Apparently Moose Jaw was the Northern home of Al Capone something Moose Jawians are very proud of. They have the “River Street” district which is filled with old hotels, the train depot (which has burned down a few times) and some bars.

Moose Jaw also has some of the oldest buildings in Saskatchewan many of them build in the late 19^th century and a few in the first decade of the 20^th century.

Also it wasn't until the sometime in the early 20^th century, over 2 decades since Moose Jaw had electricity that they could actually use it 24/7. During the first thirty years of electricity in Moose Jaw they were restricted to only daytime use of the power (I believe that's what the tour guide says... somebody wikipedia that for me!)

After the tour I met a couple from Calgary, which they pronounce Cal-Gary here, and they said there really wasn't much to see between Moose Jaw and Calgary. They also said stay out of Brooks, Alberta, they said it's a bad town and lots of crime. I talked to them a bit about Banff and the wilderness and they talked about watching out for bears and how I'd see a lot of wildlife. I asked them if they'd heard of Stone Mountain Lodge just outside of Banff and they said no. I'd though about staying there as recommended by my uncle, Curtis.

I thanked them for the advice and prepared to continue my drive to Banff. I was now on the Trans-Canadian Highway 1. Otherwise known as a the TC.

Shortly after I left Moose Jaw around 3pm, I saw two hitchhikers on the side of the road, they were a man and a woman sitting on a huge pile of gear. It almost looked like it was more backpacks and such than they could carry between the two of them. I thought about picking them up, but they looked a bit sketchy and all that gear would not have fit in the convertible.

I continued along the rolling hills and big skies of Saskatchewan passing small towns here and there. Eventually stopping in Chaplin for fuel. I talked to the lady working there and asked her about the weather as it was about 55F which seemed a bit cold for this time of year. She said they'd never really had summer this year as it was always cold and overcast for the most part. She said it was hard times for the Skatch (as the locals call Saskatchewan) farmer with the hay yielding a good crop this year. She said nothing was really growing and the farmers were getting worried they'd have to sell their herds. She talked a bit about a Cattle Act which is something that apparently Canada had done in the past where farmers could sell/leverage the value of their herd and then later buy it back when the conditions improved at the same price. This allowed the farmers to float through a bad stretch without losing the everything they had worked for. Apparently this year that wasn't going to be the case and many would be forced to sell the herds they'd spent their lives building up just to keep the animals from starving or getting weak. I thanked her for her time and information and headed on my way.

At around 6pm I arrived in Swift Current and hopped from motel to motel checking out prices. I finally found the Caravan Motel at $79 a night with wifi internet to be a good deal. It was close to two lounges and I could easily walk and have a beer. Up the hill was Smitty's (which I later learned was a chain and just across a fence was Smiley's.

I unpacked for the night took my first shower in 24 hours and headed up the hill after watching a bit of CBC. They were still talking about the Aerosmith concert cancelations.

Smitty's was packed and the bartender/waitress/server, Jessica, said there'd be a long wait for food since the whole place was under staffed. I ordered the Rocky Mountain burger with fries (and gravy, of course) – it was delicious! I chatted with some of the locals about things. They all told me Banff was beautiful and that I'd really enjoy it. Lots of wildlife to be seen and experienced everywhere. Jessica told me about the local “hot spot” for partying. The place was called Caddy Shack and was open three days a week. Wednesday's was karaoke and Friday and Saturday was dancing. She also said the place to go party in Silvan Lake which was North of Calgary and apparently a beautiful lake town where she and her dogs spent $9,000 staying there and partying over a week or so.

After finishing dinner and trying a couple of the local beers, like O.V. And Calgary Ale (which tasted like nothing at all) I headed over to Smiley's to see what the night life was over there. This was after all a Friday night.

Smiley's had a different type of clientel. A woman at a table solicited me for a “good time” eventually falling off a stool and the locals at the lounge were very boisterous and obviously enjoying their alcohol. Somebody came in and got a 15-pack of Budweiser and I nearly fell off to stool when the total came to $31.50. Wow, Canada is expensive when it comes to alcohol. I already knew this but had hoped that the Western Proviences would be different than the East.

I talked a bit to a group of 5 of the locals all but two had missing front teeth. Nothing wrong with that, but just interesting to note. One of the guys told me about how farming was really rough this year and that they were pulling 76 bails on a field of hay instead of the usual 176. Something that was going to make things really rough for people in the coming winter. We also talked about fishing and how it was how the amount of fish was so abundant to them here. I explained how we're suggested to only eat one fish per month in Minnesota due to the amount of mercury in the water. They talked about crappie fishing and how they'd never caught a bass. One of the men told a story of his youth where they'd take their friend's father's weiners (piglets) and then ride the freight train down to the market and sell them for beer money. Kids are clever and mischievious no matter where you go.

I thanked them for the evening and the conversation, stopped into Tim Horton's next door for chili and a biscuit as a late night snack and then headed back to my room for a good night's sleep around 1am.

Day 1 – Minneapolis to Drake ND

August 6th, 2009

Left home tonight at around 6:45pm. Dropped off the Brazil DVD with Ken before leaving town and talked a little bit about the trip. I stopped into Panera Bread and had a quick bite to eat before swinging over to Target on a whim to pick up a few last minute supplies. Shampoo, vitamins, 18 cliff bars (peanut butter crunch, blueberry crisp and oatmeal raisin.

I finally got on the road around 7:30pm heading West on I-94 towards Jamestown, ND. Obviously the top was down at this point. I ran into a little traffic around Rogers, but it quickly passed. I activated Google Latitude on my phone so my position could be tracked and updated wirelessly to a map on the blog. I'd never used the technology before as I'm a bit paranoid about people knowing where I am 24/7, but for this trip it'd be no big deal.

By Alexandria, Minnesota I was getting pretty chilled. I pulled off and turned into the nearest gas station to fill up, use the bathroom and change into pants.

After driving another hour and watching my progress on the GPS I crossed into North Dakota. Grand Forks has some slow speed limits and crazy drivers. Driving through Grand Forks was overall an uneventful experience.

After driving a bit further I came to the town of Casselton. I pulled over when I saw a lounge on the side of the road. I used their bathroom, responded to a few messages people had sent me and posed the question to a few people... which way; Great Falls, MT or Minot, ND as originally planned. Great Falls was supposedly shorter in time, but longer in distance while entering Canada through Portal, ND saved about 150+ miles of driving.

I decided I had over 90 miles to think about it, so I'd just keep driving.

As I got close to Jamestown, I decided on Great Falls MT because I was making such great time on the freeway since the speed limit through North Dakota was 75mph. However, as I often do, I changed my mind and at the last Jamestown exit, I turned around and headed back towards Minot.

I pulled into a service station in Jamestown and chatted with another couple who were filling up their van. They were from Minnesota too. However, they were on their way to Idaho to visit the husband's parents. I went in to use the bathroom again (I know, I drink a lot of water) and as I was coming back out it started to downpour.

I put up my top and tried to use my windshield wiper spray ... only to find that it didn't work. I fiddled with the lever a bit... no use... I pulled it hard and held it towards me; finally success!. Apparently something was a bit loose or I overfilled the resevour. Probably the latter.

Meandering through Jamestown I noticed the town sure looked like it had a lot of history. I think it might be a good place to head back to someday. Then I hit the 70mph speed limit on a Highway 52 / 281 and I forgot all about Jamestown. The rain was beating down hard at this point and I could see frogs jumping across the road from time to time. I wanted to go 70mph, but I kept my speed to 65mph because I could feel the hydroplane as the rain collected in the tire grooves in the asphalt.

I passed a few semi and a few pickups passed me easily going 80mph. The rain was coming down hard and all the radio stations were classic rock. As I reached the corner where highways 52 and 281 split I noticed all the radio stations went to country music. I must be in Central North Dakota now.

It was around 3am now as I continued on. I eventually decided that I should probably take a break for the night and so I proceeded to look for small towns with a diner. I thought, this is farm country, these diners should open at sunrise so the farmers can have their morning coffee and BS sessions. As I passed these small towns it seemed like it took forever to reach the next. None of which seemed to have a diner. I made a deal with myself that during this entire trip I was going to eat at local restaurants only. I love expericing local neuances to food names and of course the local people and culture. You can almost always get good travel advice from the staff of a local diner... or the patrons that overhear your conversation.

Finally around 4am. I pulled into Drake, ND. I'd given up, my eyes were tired and I wanted to sleep. I drove through the town in the rain. The city sign at the highway said “campgrounds at city park” so I thought I'd check it out. I drove the 6 blocks down to the city park, but I really couldn't clearly make out any tent pads or even parking spots.

I went to turn down to the next block to see if there was a diner in town and I was blocked by a large 20' branch in the middle of the street. I began to wonder if anybody actually lived in Drake by the upkeep of the city park and the city streets.

I turned around and headed down a different street around the back side of the park and toward the main street area. I passed the local catholic church which still had a bell hung outside on a 20' scaffold from which a large rope was hanging. I was impressed. A church that still has a bell that needs to be rung by hand.

Going down the main drag I was there were a few businesses. The bank, the grocery store, the post office, the local diner and the local bar. The only indication of the diner's name was written in pen on an 8.5” x 11” piece of paper taped to the front window. I was still hoping they'd open in the morning for the farmers. This town had an elevator, therefore it should be farming town.

I drove around a few more blocks, passed the bank again and that's when I noticed a house that was decked out in Soo Line railroad switches, lights and other retired gear. Flood lights were on illuminating all of the accumulated railroad memoribilia so I thought it'd be a good, safe place to sleep in my car for the night.

I pulled over, reclined the seat, found a hat to pull over my eyes and after lower the back two windows I drifted off into a restless sleep. I was still wired that I actually left home.