Newtown

This morning, when I awoke, the skies were clear, but there was a tremendous dew on the ground, and my tent and a few items I had hanging to dry were wetter than they were last night. So, I laid everything out for the morning sun to dry and I grabbed breakfast at the pro shop of the golf course. At that time, I met the course architect, who not only resides in the same small village in Westchester County, NY, but was wearing a Boston Red Sox hat, much like the one I was wearing at the same moment. The chance of meeting him on his annual visit to this course in North Dakota is unlikely at best, but for him to be a fellow Sox fan from the very same NY Yankee bastion seems like a remarkable coincidence.

Chuckling over the chances of that, I packed up once everything had dried out. I'm currently reading the 1,000 page Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, and I've taken to discarding chapters as I finish them to lighten my load! Anyway, I cycled the pleasant 44 miles to New Town, ND, and called it a day.