Humansville

I left Lee's Summit Tuesday morning, with cool, clear skies, lots of rest, and a backpack weighed down with Barbara's cookies.
By late evening I made it to Harrisonville, following Highway 291, and spent an hour losing at solitaire in the local Wendy's before finding a church to sleep behind. In the morning I started early, having been politely woken up by one of the church's pastors who had some ladies coming in to pray, and I headed back to the Wendy's to get a little breakfast, then started south out of town and shortly met up with Highway 7, heading east.
Through the day I made a lot of stops, but still managed to make decent time. I ate lunch in Garden City, dinner in Creighton, and stopped for the night just before ten oclock in the little town of Urich. The nights are definitely cooling off, now, and for the first time in months I put on under armor before crawling into my tent, set up in a little park.
Thursday I woke up early, again, and shook dew off of the tent before packing up. I walked twelve miles without taking a break, and made it into Clinton around two in the afternoon. After sitting around at the library for a few hours and heating up soup outside, I started out of town around five in the evening.
The eight miles to Deepwater had me sad. I crossed the two upper arms of Truman Lake with the tired sun glinting off the water and herons sitting quietly on the shores. There are hundreds of dead trees, standing cold and naked in the water, and I watched them almost pityingly. How must it feel to watch the water rise up and circle around you, and not be able to flee, but be tied to the earth? To lose your leaves and your limbs and die slowly, in the water? Sad and probably useless thoughts.
I reached the town called Deepwater just as the last light was sucked away. Spotted a picnic shelter from the road and rolled out on the concrete. Listened to some African drummers on NPR and slowly drifted off to sleep.
Friday I woke up late. The sun had already burned off the early chill and I walked quickly through the low hills and the chickering woods. In Lowry City I ate donuts and drank apple juice, and then walked to Osceola before four oclock. After another pot of soup I started out again and made it all the way to Collins by nine. Called my parents before finding a place to sleep.
It rained, off and on through the night and morning. I woke up wet and cold and was glad when the sun burned through the clouds and a low fog came up in the woods. I'm in Humansville, now, and it's sunny, and I'm hoping to be in Bolivar by evening.
My feet are doing well, for the most part. My arches pretty much constantly ache and I feel stone bruised off and on, but I'm managing to stay barefoot somewhere around seventy percent of the time.