I decide that I’m going to keep my shoes in my tent with me at night again.
I had been leaving them in the vestibule, out of the rain, but also out of the tent.
But this morning, after knocking the thirty or so slugs off the tent from the inside, I unzip my tent and grab my shoe, but instead, I grab a few slugs. Eww. Squirmy!
I shake out my shoes the best I can, but after walking for ten minutes and feeling that something isn’t quite right under my feet, I stop on the shoulder of the road and clean out another, less fortunate, slug.
When I was packing up my sleeping bag this morning, I noticed an almond sitting on my air mattress.
I had been eating some last night in the tent.
I popped it into my mouth without thinking.
It was soft.
I’m assuming it’s because it was exposed to the air all night and the moisture got to it.
It was the moisture, right?
Yes, yes, it must have been the moisture that made it so soft.
I haven’t walked 15 minutes when the rains come again.
It rains all morning, just like it rained all yesterday morning.
And it is cold, with a heavy head wind.
By the time I decide I need gloves for my freezing hands, my fingers are so numb, I can barely get the gloves on.
Even then, I can’t open the wrapping from my protein bar.
It is a miserable morning.
Rain, high winds, cold, and trying to maneuver along a difficult highway with only a one-foot-wide asphalt shoulder followed by 10 feet of mud on a 30-degree slant makes for a very unhappy Dave this morning.
Even a couple of pecan butter tarts don’t improve my morale, since I shiver the whole time I am eating them.
After a few hours, I arrive in Sault Ste. Marie, where the four-lane road running through the commercial and residential area is lacking a sidewalk and any shoulder at all.
I have no choice but to walk on the road and hope the traffic in my lane moves over.
There is nowhere else to go.
And then I come to an oasis – a Husky gas station, where I have a late breakfast, served by the fabulous Sharon Dyni.
She is so attentive, asking about my story, and then she won’t allow me to leave her a tip.
It is to be her contribution to my efforts, she tells me.
She also tells me that she had served Jean Belleveau, not the hockey player, but the world walker, when he came through town.
He would have been very near the end of his 11-year walk around the world when Sharon served him.
Sharon really cheered me up.
After shaving and standing under one of the Husky’s hot showers for twenty minutes, I feel like a new man.
I needed a shower badly.
I might not get another one until I arrive in Thunder Bay in about twelve days.
I put on some dry, albeit dirty, clothes and head back to the road.
The rain has stopped, thankfully, although the cold and wind haven’t given up.
Happily, the heavy wind means there are no bugs.
It’s amazing how quickly morale can change.
As I walk out of the Sault, I am presented with a 10-foot-wide asphalt shoulder, pristine forest on both sides of the road, a smorgasbord of green colours to delight the visual sense, and light traffic to enjoy it.
I enjoy this for a couple of hours.
It is bliss.
I can barely contain my joy.
But then the icy wind picks up even more, the rain comes again, and the asphalt shoulder narrows to three inches.
The party is over.
