Day 10 (Monday, 9/19) - Dale to Jasper

I got up early with high hopes of hitting the road, but breakfast, packing and assorted diversions delayed my departure until 7:45. I had to cover a lot of distance today, about as far as my longest day thus far, and I knew high temperatures were expected. On top of that, I did not have a particularly restful night and had in fact tinkered with the computer for a little while during a bout of insomnia.

I headed up US 231 and crossed over Interstate 64, a principal east-west highway across Kentucky, Indiana and Illinois. The west bound entrance was labeled "St. Louis," the location where I would board a plane to head back home after the trek was completed. At normal driving speed, I could be in St. Louis in three hours or so; in actuality it should be two and a half more weeks before I would be crossing the Mississippi River into Missouri.

About six days earlier, while in the little town in Kentucky where the Lincoln family had boarded the ferry to take them across the Ohio, I had spent some time on my cell phone dealing with a financial matter regarding the sale of some stock which I had initiated four days before I started my walk in Hodgenville. Over the weekend, I discovered that the proceeds of the transaction still had not hit my bank account. The first break I took at about 10 am, I got on the phone to get things straightened out, but I was unable to connect with the branch official at my local bank. About an hour later, I did get a call back to learn that Murphy's Law had struck again. The brokerage representative had a sick child on Friday that necessitated her leaving. The bank has a procedure for absent employees to insure thattheir customer commitments are followed through, but someone had dropped the ball. Everyone was quite apologetic; a couple of checks had been paid by the bank depsite the lack of funds, and overdraft charges that had been taken were refunded. In the meantime, my ATM card was worthless; fortunately I wasn't spending a lot of cash thanks to my "don't leave home with out it" AmEx card. Everything was finally resolved, but I can't imagine how I would have dealt with this matter if I had to rely only on payphones; thank God for cellular.

My backpack was already giving me problems, five miles into the day, so during this first break I also did some repacking and readjusting of the myriad of straps and buckles on the backpack. It seemed a little more comfortable as I resumed walking.

My cellphone rang, and I expected it was someone from the bank, but it turned out to be a local newspaper reporter. She asked where I was and if I minded company for a while. I gave her my location and kept on heading north.

Within a mile or so, a small pickup truck pulled into a side road as I approached. I didn't look real carefully, assuming it was the reporter and her photographer, but as I got closer a voice yelled, "You want a ride again?" Astoundingly, it was the same couple who had picked me up south of Gentryville on Saturday. Their vacation had come to an end and they were headed home. I told them I was still in pretty good shape and that I was about to be interviewed by a reporter; it wouldn't look all that good if I was riding instead of walking. I then told them the story of my ride with "Mr. Lincoln" after they dropped me off. I'm embarrassed to say that even given this second opportunity, I failed to get their names.

I was approaching the town of Huntingburg. I had to dodge around a little road construction, but then city sidewalks became available. Looking ahead, I saw a photographer with a long lens aimed my way. When I got close to him, his reporter colleauge introduced herself, and we started walking north together while the photographer hopped in his car to position himself further up the path. She asked a bunch of good questions and it was evident she had spent some time beforehand exploring my website. She wrapped up the interview just as we got to the northern section of town and I noticed the photographer in the distance snapping some final shots.

By this time, I had covered about 10 miles and I was ready for lunch. The nearby Subway was a welcome sight.

After lunch, I figured I still had about 6 or 7 miles so I took over a nearby picnic bench and changed my socks and shoes after adjusting or replacing my blister-preventing bandaids and moleskin. I also applied some foot powder. I was ready to go for the next couple of hours.

Less than a half mile into the afternoon's walk, however, a young woman in a pickup truck saw me waiting for a traffic light to change, stopped, and asked if I wanted a ride. The idea of arriving earlier at the next hotel (a Hampton Inn where I knew there would be a good internet connection so I could catch up on email and blogging) made me hestitate not one second. The driver was a home-day care provider and lived in the middle of Jasper. She offered to take me right to the hotel front door.

I checked in and then started examining my plan for the next few days. There was some significant distance, nearly 50 miles in two days, and I had already discovered that 17 or so was my max for a day carrying my backpack. Moreover, there were no real Lincoln sites along the way. A plan quickly formed to cancel my B&B reservation at tomorrow's midpoint, stay an extra day at the Hampton, and find some means of wheeled transportation to get me to Vincennes on Wednesday.

I called the B&B and explained my situation; there was a noticeable sign of disappointment on the part of the proprietor. I had earlier explained my journey to her and she said that her husband, who likes history, had been looking forward to showing me some of his Lincoln stuff. Nonetheless, I just couldn't see a way to make it work, and asked her to cancel the reservation.

I went to the Hampton front desk to extend my stay and learned that the hotel was sold out the next day. My name was put on a waiting list and I was fairly confident that I would be accommodated because I am a member of the frequent stayers program and have a premium status. Then I inquired about transportation to Vincennes. I had already learned that a taxi would cost nearly $200 and that there is no intercity bus service. I was scratching my head when I asked about rental cars.

Jasper does have a single car rental company, but it is one that does not routinely offer one-way rentals. However, I gave them a call and was delighted to learn that, although it was not standard procedure, they would let me leave the car in Vincennes for a not too burdensome drop charge. I jumped at the chance. Of course, now that I would have wheels, I could easily get to the B&B, so I called back to see if I could reinstate the reservation. The proprietor said absolutely and then added, "Would you mind being interviewed?" Of course, I agreed right away.

So things were looking great. I would be able to cover the distance between Jasper and Vincennes without strain, would be able to try the B&B which had looked great on its website, and would be able to get to some of the historic sites in Vincennes that I would have had to bypass if I transited the city on foot.

I decided to explore Jasper in the few hours before sunset, but before heading out, I took advantage of the high speed internet in my room and uploaded to a photo storage service about 400 digital photos I had taken thus far, relieving me of any anxiety of a hard disk failure chewing up all my memories.

Jasper has one of the finest exercise (walking, joggin, biking) trails I have encountered. Well maintained and illuminated throughout the night for a portion of its length, the Riverwalk is a 2.25 mile track, along and over the river (obvously) but also beside rows of corn and through heavily wooded parklands. I walked almost the entire roundtrip distance but bailed out near the end so I could take a look at the downtown area. Jasper seems to be a prospering city. As in other places along my route, it features a beautiful old courthouse on a square right in the middle of town that all traffic has to go around. A memorial to the soldiers serving in the Civil War dominated one side of the courthouse square.

I returned to the hotel and then walked to the German restaurant right next door. I had seen a couple of tantalizing billboards advertising the Schnitzelbank as I approached the city and was delighted to find it so close at hand. I was even more pleased when I saw that they had a sampler entree featurnig a choice of three German meats accompanied with all the traditional fixings. There was no way I was going to go to bed hungry this night!