Waxing Gibbous Moon
Yesterday I flirted with dehydratory disaster as the Sun burned off the clouds and afternoon temps hit the high nineties. When I reached the town of Gretna, the wide shoulder of US 6 was replaced by modern sidewalks for a while – then they, too, disappeared.
Hugging the curb and walking against the flow of traffic, just like the touring strollerist instruction manual advises, I was getting kind of loopy. Way too sweaty, a little dizzy, hungry, in need of a rest stop. That’s (of course) when Johnny Law showed up.
I didn’t catch the nice officer’s real name. He was only doing his job, making sure the old sweaty dude with the stroller named Bobalooie was not a public menace. He asked a few questions to determine whether or not I could construct a coherent answer. Then he recommended the nearby Sonic Drive-In for ice cream and a cold drink. Now that’s my kind of Johnny Law.
A root beer float and a giant limeade fueled my final hour of walking for the day. Then I guzzled two liters of water, a blue Powerade, and another liter of water mixed with Emergen-C.
Sheesh. I was dry as a bone.
Oh by the way, this is a statue, not a real horse! Somebody back home was confused about that. Very confused 😉
I have determined that as long as this hot weather continues, I will not attempt to walk more than five hours on any one day. If that. Tomorrow the heat index is supposed to reach 107. I could get pretty sick under those conditions.
Since getting sick is not conducive to having a nice day, I believe I shall not leave the posh digs I have rented dirt cheap in Lincoln NE until Friday a.m.
“Lincoln?” you might ask. Yes. I walked, swooned, and staggered as far as I could today until trail magic once again saved my stinky bacon. This time magic took the form of two nice Lincolnians with one pickup truck who offered to shuttle me to the Comfort Inn.
Nancy and Christy won this episode of the serendipity sweepstakes when they walked into a Subway sandwich shop on the Grand Army of the Republic Highway. They saw me profusely perspiring over a flatbread black forest ham, egg, and pepperjack sandwich and made a friendly inquiry about my mission. Minutes later, they were christened official trail angels and my poor sloppy butt was saved.
Oh by the way, this is not a real horse either.
Maybe the best part of today’s walk was crossing the wide waters of the Platte River. Doesn’t look that deep, though. Lots of sand bars.
I have a dull headache, mild nausea, trouble concentrating, and I don’t even remember the last time I had to pee. Topping that off, there is a little red triangle flashing on the top bar of my Smartyphone. It leads to a horrendous multi-paragraph heat wave warning. Old people are supposed to stay indoors tomorrow lest they contract instant Alzheimer’s, incontinence, tourette syndrome, and/or tremors/vapors.
I shall take heed. Friends and Family Rate, I salute you.
Peace, Love, and Cottonmouth,