We went for a short hike in the morning. Just up the trail, then it’s a short climb to a good view of the valley. It’s the high point of the low point. We’re surrounded by mountains, but we’re on the tallest hill in the valley. It’s where I had originally planned to meet Trinity. There are lots of different mountain flowers and boulders to climb and sit on. Sebastian liked the mountain too, he ran some happy circles.
Back at the bus Trinity made steal cut oats with toasted walnuts, flax seeds, blueberries and bananas. It was great, and stuck with me for what seemed like 40 days and 40 nights.
I rearranged the underneath bus storage. As time goes on I seem to make it more efficient. I was unable to complete the stuff swap though because I’m parked too close to a tree to lift the door open. I could move 3’ forward, but that seems like a bit of work.
We went into town to a coffee shop for some human interaction, free internet and of course coffee. The only coffee I had had at home for the last two days was pre-ground can coffee. At the shop I had a latte and gazed in awe at the wall of coffee beans roasted daily in 5lb batches. We got a lot of things done and had a relaxing time at the coffee shop, then wandered the shops on the main street. The vibe of the city had changed since the bikers left town, mostly families and couples traveling.
I found an amazing pair of sandals at a bead store for $16, old world handmade, right out of the bible. The sole was thin layers of leather, tied together with leather strips and braided leather. They look perhaps to be Middle Eastern. One woman guessed they were Belize, another told me I looked like King Tut. The only thing the woman minding the store was sure of was that you are supposed to soak them in water and wear them to break them in.
I christened them in the creek behind the campsite, and then proceeded to beat them up pretty bad, on the rocks, in the woods and on gravel. They were tight and stiff, but definitely loosening up. I dipped them again and wore them that afternoon around as I got my bike out for the first time since I left Rochester.
I had crashed it in the rain and had to put it away wet for awhile. I cleaned it, lubed it and pronounced it, “ready to ride”. I rode around the camp ground, out and up the Beartooth highway, just a mile or so.
It was good to be back on my bike. I remembered my broken collar bone when I felt my scuffed up handlebar tape and realized it didn’t hurt at all.
That night we went on a walk. I dipped my Jesus boots in the creek one more time and wore them to break them in more. We walked far up a rocky trail by the creek on the other side of the campground. The rocks poked at my feet through the thin leather sandals. It hurt some, but they were breaking in quickly and taking the shape of my feet.
It was a long walk back. My feet suffered greatly. I thought of the great people from biblical times who wandered the dessert in shoes just like these. No wonder they had so much passion for their beliefs, their feet hurt.
It became a quest of biblical proportion to make it home in the sandals. I was expecting an epiphany of great enlightenment for my suffering at the end of my quest. I was able to put my feet up. It was heavenly.
Back at the bus Trinity made steal cut oats with toasted walnuts, flax seeds, blueberries and bananas. It was great, and stuck with me for what seemed like 40 days and 40 nights.
I rearranged the underneath bus storage. As time goes on I seem to make it more efficient. I was unable to complete the stuff swap though because I’m parked too close to a tree to lift the door open. I could move 3’ forward, but that seems like a bit of work.
We went into town to a coffee shop for some human interaction, free internet and of course coffee. The only coffee I had had at home for the last two days was pre-ground can coffee. At the shop I had a latte and gazed in awe at the wall of coffee beans roasted daily in 5lb batches. We got a lot of things done and had a relaxing time at the coffee shop, then wandered the shops on the main street. The vibe of the city had changed since the bikers left town, mostly families and couples traveling.
I found an amazing pair of sandals at a bead store for $16, old world handmade, right out of the bible. The sole was thin layers of leather, tied together with leather strips and braided leather. They look perhaps to be Middle Eastern. One woman guessed they were Belize, another told me I looked like King Tut. The only thing the woman minding the store was sure of was that you are supposed to soak them in water and wear them to break them in.
I christened them in the creek behind the campsite, and then proceeded to beat them up pretty bad, on the rocks, in the woods and on gravel. They were tight and stiff, but definitely loosening up. I dipped them again and wore them that afternoon around as I got my bike out for the first time since I left Rochester.
I had crashed it in the rain and had to put it away wet for awhile. I cleaned it, lubed it and pronounced it, “ready to ride”. I rode around the camp ground, out and up the Beartooth highway, just a mile or so.
It was good to be back on my bike. I remembered my broken collar bone when I felt my scuffed up handlebar tape and realized it didn’t hurt at all.
That night we went on a walk. I dipped my Jesus boots in the creek one more time and wore them to break them in more. We walked far up a rocky trail by the creek on the other side of the campground. The rocks poked at my feet through the thin leather sandals. It hurt some, but they were breaking in quickly and taking the shape of my feet.
It was a long walk back. My feet suffered greatly. I thought of the great people from biblical times who wandered the dessert in shoes just like these. No wonder they had so much passion for their beliefs, their feet hurt.
It became a quest of biblical proportion to make it home in the sandals. I was expecting an epiphany of great enlightenment for my suffering at the end of my quest. I was able to put my feet up. It was heavenly.
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