McPherson to Durham; Distance = 33 Miles; People Met = 2; Raccoons Met = 1
The two days out of McPherson featured 20 mph winds. On the first day the winds were from the north and there was a little snow squall. On the second day the winds were from the south and merely added a chill to the air.
In between we camped at McPherson State Fishing Lake, near the restrooms at the park’s entrance. What a noisy neighborhood! Coyotes, geese and woodpeckers all took their turns disturbing our slumber. The biggest disturbance was a raccoon. What follows may forever ruin this blog’s reputation, but here goes.
I like a short walk to the restroom
I left our stove and cook set just outside the tent door on my side, about two feet from my head. About 2:00 a.m. I hear the cook set knocked off. I opened the tent flap and the raccoon somewhat nonchalantly ambles to the side of the tree we’re camped under. I growled at him; I snapped a picture hoping the flash would spook him. He just looks with mild interest.
Isn't he cute? .... The little varmint!
I get out of the tent and he attempts to climb the tree. I growl and poke him off with my walking stick. We then engage in hide and go seek round the trunk of the tree. I whack him with my stick and he scampers off for a few feet, then keels over to his side, teeth bared but otherwise not responding to a few pokes.
“I couldn’t have hit him that hard!” I thought, and went to use the restroom that we camped beside. When I came out the raccoon was sitting up observing me warily. I made a step towards him and he takes off … but not for good.
Twice more that night I heard the cook set near my head knocked off (there wasn’t even any food in it). After the third time I climbed out again and began chasing the raccoon around, whacking him with my stick. He didn’t bother to play dead this time. He headed into a brush pile and growled at me for the first time. I yelled back and, along with me starting to remove the branches of the pile, shut him up. I figured he had enough of Kirk D. Sinclair and I returned to the tent. He did not disturb us the rest of the evening.
OK, OK, I know what you’re thinking, that’s a fine account for a Kindness Blog. Well, you might be heartened to know I lost the rubber tip off my walking stick in the process.
The next morning we were about to enter the Maxwell Wildlife Refuge when we’re greeted by a sign about dangerous animals and warning us to stay in our vehicles.
What vehicle?
Hey! I was feeling particularly tough and courageous after last night. If I could valiantly ward off Rocky Raccoon I figured I could handle …
.... a stampeding bison herd.
We made it through the Refuge safely, which also featured a herd of elk.
Most roads in Kansas are laid out in one mile grids. One direction is consecutively labeled with numbers, the other with names featuring consecutive letters of the alphabet, though which direction is which changes with the county. Occasionally there are missing pieces to the grid. Apparently, that does not matter to some counties doing the labeling.
Um, where is 26th Ave.?
As for Kindness this day, Wally stopped to ask us how we were doing and provided directions to Durham. Once we got to Durham Wendell Wedel, proprietor of the Main Street Café, provided directions to the First Baptist Church and filled up our water bottles. Ky stayed by the church the night previous and shared in their Wednesday evening dinner. We benefited from leftovers saved for us.
Wally's laughing because he cracked a joke at my expense
