Monday, November 29
For several days now I have been listening to the periodic reports of gunshots as turkey hunters honed their aims on “Old Tom” and readied themselves for today - the first day of deer season. Most of the hunters were out and about earlier than I, and consequently I passed many unoccupied pick-ups along the rural road. I was glad to be wearing my bright orange vest and wish to again thank the Nebraska highway workers for giving it to me - which now strangely seems so long ago.
It was another cold but sunny day as I walked along Route 30. The old Lincoln Highway as it is known, was the first transcontinental highway running all the way from Atlantic City, New Jersey, to Astoria, Oregon. Yesterday’s traffic has been replaced by today's turnpikes and interstates but hints of its glory remain. Many signs and moribund souvenir shops yet exist as vestiges of its once glorious past. As a walker - I am glad to walk "the road less traveled."
As I heaved and hauled my way up and down the endless hillsides I had but one goal in mind - to make it by day's end to Bedford, Pennsylvania. This I accomplished and by dark I had checked into a room in the center of town. A couple of hours later I was happily eating lasagna washed down with a cold beer in a great little Italian restaurant. What brand of brewski? If I have to tell you - you've never been to Pennsylvania!
Ah, life it good.