The sun now sets much earlier and after appreciating a starry sky I went to bed feeling better about the day. The clearness of the evening ushered in the coldest night I have thus far experienced and I awoke to a frozen world. The tent was iced, the ground was white, and I was cold. In such a situation it is easy to linger in a warm sleeping bag but when nature calls - all must answer - and I reluctantly emerged from my warn cocoon. Standing there looking over the frost covered ground I saw it as another harbinger of the coming winter.
Moving slowly in the early darkness - I ate, packed, and with very cold feet - set out for Canton, Ohio. After several miles the sun broke over the horizon and with my feet now warmed - all former discomfort was forgotten.
My goal was to arrive in Canton by day's end and find a motel for the night. I have no particular need to “rough it” any more than is necessary and the thought of a warm room made perfect sense to me. As I walked along thinking this over my friend since childhood, Floyd Grimes, called me saying he was quite willing to drive to get me and would return me the following morning. This sounded like a perfect plan and I put an extra spring to my step and hurried toward our rendezvous at the intersection of Highway 30 and Route 43.
I had previously noticed on the map that Highway 30 is “limited access” as it nears Canton and continues in this manner for several miles. Limited access means that it is closed to pedestrian traffic but as it represented "the cat’s meow” for pushing my cart and also led directly to my immediate goal - I plowed ahead knowing that if the State Patrol stopped me it is always easier to say, “I’m sorry,” rather than, “May I?” Would they stop me?
They did indeed.
The first officer was a nice elderly gentleman who simply inquired as to what I was doing and said nothing about my being in a restricted access area - unfortunately - the next officer did. Pulled over now for a second time within an hour, this younger officer told me someone “had called” and that I would need to exit the highway and travel a much less favorable route to my destination. This change represented a major snafu and I therefore used every persuasive argument I could think of. After displaying my lights, my orange vest, my bright orange triangle, pleading, begging, and cajoling - he made a call to "headquarters" and arranged special permission for me to continue to my rendezvous undisturbed. I could not thank him enough and happily set forth looking for my good friend, Floyd Grimes, or "Bud", as he is known to close friends and family.