On the last post I left out the biggest advertisement of all, for Idaho: the roads and trails aren't littered with loose rubble. That is no small thing to a mountain biker or hiker.
The reason, I suppose, is that, here in the North, there is enough rain and vegetation to produce the mouldering bio-mass that eventually turns into soil, unlike the Southwest that I am used to. (I am so sick of that brown rubble, I could almost puke...)
__________________________________
Something happened the other day that seemed like a small miracle. It would have been unnoticeable until a few months ago. Somebody shook my hand!
I hope I didn't tense up, defensively, and make her feel bad. But it has been so long...
Now where did this "retrograde" (and politically incorrect) behavior happen? In a small town in Idaho. I had approached the owner of the laundromat and coffee shop, and told her that I was an RVer, and only met two laundromats per year that I liked, and hers was one of them.
She glowed with satisfaction, and shook my hand. It is no small thing to feel like a living human being. A rare experience.
Comments
Post a Comment
For the Brave browser, you might have to turn off Reader Mode to comment.
Feel free to disagree as much as you want with any ideas, but resist the ad hominem approach.