Day 61 Spending the night in Wisner, Nebraska
Nearly all
of the small towns through which I have cycled have small parks in which cyclists
are welcome to camp. A short-lived
community blooms in these lovely spots and it was joy to meet folks who have
gravitated towards that place. There
were cyclists from the U.K. who pitched their tent on the river. I had the opportunity to chat with an
extended family which gathers at the park from around the country for that
particular weekend. Their grandfather
had owned a local farm which was sold years ago, yet this spot still holds a
place in their hearts.
I noticed
that the grass was particularly green and lush around the building housing the
showers. It seemed to be a good place to
pitch my tent, and I was grateful for the cushion which the grass provided. As I crawled into my tent I saw hundreds of
fire-flies flying around the top of the blades of grass which created a
mystical atmosphere.
I fell
asleep immediately. I was, however,
awakened at 6 a.m. by the automatic sprinklers which had been installed to
insure the health of the green grass upon which I slept. If I had all of my faculties, I would have
concluded that insofar as the sprinklers were only on for a brief period of
time and my tent was waterproof, the best course of action is to remain in my
sleeping bag until the watering was complete.
However, at dawn, I am not at my creative best and jumped out of my tent
dragging all of my sleeping gear with me.
This insured that I, my clothes, and my sleeping bag became instantaneously
soaked. It also insured that I would be getting on the road at a reasonable
hour and, for once, would be arriving at my destination that day on schedule.
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