It spattered a bit after I awoke and got ready to head off, then again down the road a bit. Following that, the rain cleared and I got into the little town of Summerville for a breakfast of eggs and hash browns with coffee. There wasn’t much to speak of throughout the day, although the walk was quite beautiful.
Once out of Summerville the road turned east a bit before heading due north into The Blues, a range I’d been hearing about since Idaho. Figuring out from the mileage I’d gone and the mileage I had to go to Tollgate I realized I had about fifteen miles of straight uphill to go. My intelligence sources, though, said there was a store in Tollgate where I could get some coffee at the end of the day, and that was most of where my thoughts lay that day.
Along the way the clouds came and went forcing me back into the rain gear I’d shed in Summerville over breakfast. I met two guys who offered me a ride and we ended up swapping casino winnings stories. Then another guy, picking mulberries with his son, tried to wrap me into working for him I think. Other than that I trudged up, taking in the wonderful forest around me. That is until it rained down on me again.
Toward the top of the mountain the rain came along with the cloud that poured it. I suppose I was up high enough that the cloud simply collided with the mountain and I was in the midst of it. The fog got thick enough that I couldn’t see more than 200 feet ahead of me, but headlights were on so the danger was minimal and the beauty of it was endlessly intriguing me. Soon it passed, the sun re-emerged, and Tollgate came around a bend. No store.
All I found was a little lakeside community. A small detour down a side road lead me to a closed information center. I quickened my pace. Too many had told me of this store for it to be an off the road info center. I went another mile and still the vacation houses persisted with no salvation. Then, another bend, and there it was dubbed Tollgate’s shopping center. It was a little convenience store with a deli that had been closed since six. Across the street was a bed and breakfast.
Having gone with such determination to have a coffee I decided to check out the bed and breakfast to see if they sold food in there. This was to be my downfall on a so far relatively delightful day. A grumpyish man answered and shruggingly told me the food was across the street and it was closed. With a thought in his head he suddenly said he’d open the store for me to get something if I liked. Great.
I went to wait for him as he grabbed the key and his coat then came trudging over looking none too happy. As we went in I looked over the shelves and God almighty it was over priced worse than Manhattan. At this point I couldn’t back out and he spoke up seeming impatient that he’d make me a sandwich if I liked. Sure, I opted for the roast beef, ham, and cheese. He trudged off without a word so I sat down.
When he came back he threw the styrofoam box on the counter and rang it in as I came over. Not thinking I paid exact and thanked him again as we left together. He spit off to the side “Thanks for the big tip” and with no other word trudged quickly back to his bed and breakfast. I felt awful that I hadn’t thought to tip him, at the same time I felt angry that he so spitefully had done it solely for the “big tip”. As one who generally works for tips along with my exhaustion from the day I was completely ripped down the middle emotionally. The whole ordeal grated on me so badly that I couldn’t even stay to eat sitting down. I wrapped the chips in the napkin and held the sandwich as best I could so I could toss the styrofoam box and walked off eating as I went.
Pitching the tent a mile later the spectacular view of the valley below didn’t affect me at all as I mulled this over in my head. I lay inside trying to read and go over my maps but eventually gave up and fell to sleep still disturbed.