The creek bed didn’t have more than about half a mile or so left in it that morning before the road returned and then pavement returned as well. The name of the road had changed to Horse Creek Rd. but other than that all was normal again. I walked a few miles down a long straight away over flat land and watched as a train made its way along the horizon and crossed the road in front of me.
As I drew nearer to the tracks coming from the other direction of the last train was a long drawn out coal hauling train the likes of which I could not find an end to. It pulled slowly toward me, but just fast enough that it looked as if I’d have no way of crossing before it got there giving me about 8 million years to wait for it to pass. Thankfully it stopped about 100 yards from the crossing and sat there. I approached hastily to beat it if it happened to start up again.
The rest of the way to the mighty Mississip was along another long flat road for about two or three miles. I had breakfast at a little place no one was in then went to check out the bridge situation.
Of the bridges there were two to look at. One mighty big one with tall towers and arching cables, the other a replica of the Brookport Bridge going into Illinois. Of course the larger bridge was under construction and was denied access to cross it because it wasn’t even connected yet.
Undiscouraged, I went down below the two bridges and checked out the underbelly of the little one wondering if I could climb across underneath. Giving it a good twice over I contemplated climbing hand over fist about quarter of a mile, dangling with a 60 lb pack, along rocking and swaying steel cross connectors over the mighty Mississip to the other side. Then I realized that was completely insane and probably a good way to be seen as a terrorist trying to detonate it.
Going back up topside I checked out the road which was far too narrow and busy to walk and direct like I’d tried before. Then behind me a wide load truck pulled over to the side. I talked with the driver and found out that an escort was coming to shut down the bridge for him so that he could cross. It would be two hours or more before they came, but it was an option. I sat down beside the truck and began to write.
Within about five minutes of starting to write a car pulled up. I rethought how ridiculous I was being about trying to walk every single step and with shame in my heart took the ride across. Because of this I was able to spend five hours in the college library in Cape Girardeau catching up on posts.
My sixth state, Missouri. I was excited when I got out on the other side of the bridge. I ran over to the welcome sign and took my picture, then went to take another picture with the B&W film and the camera choked on me. I took about four failing pictures as the aperture stuck every time over exposing the shot. Very frustrating, but I took a digi pic and convinced myself that was good enough.
After my five hours of going between computers, sites, figuring out how pictures are uploaded, and all the rest at the library I headed off down the road toward Jackson feeling a little lonely. I can’t remember why really, but I think it had a lot to do with being in a college library and on a college campus. I just felt a little off and was beginning to question why I was all alone with all my possessions on my back in the middle of the country. I guess it was a momentary lapse of ludicrous lifestyle into the world of sanity again. To conquer this I stopped into to Custard Jacks for a hot dog, coffee, and some ice cream.
Frozen custard was precisely what the doctor ordered for my ailment. That and the girls I chatted with there. It perked me right back up and put me right back into my own little world where I belonged. By six I was out the door and on the road feeling better about myself. Five miles later I climbed a hill out of sight and camped out behind a radio tower.
I called Ingrid, my sister, and my dad that night and talked with them all for a good while. Then I wrote until about one in the morning with my trusty headlamp before going to sleep.