Tuesday, December 4, 2007
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Last night was cold - 30 degrees or so - and I barely had enough propane to see me through the night. I'm going to have to find some today and with that in mind I've decided to head south from Leeds on AL route 25 and keep an eye out for a propane dealer. I found one about 25 -30 miles out and AL 25 took me south of Birmingham and then gradually westward, eventually crossing I65 at Calera AL where I've holed up for the night, once again at Wal-Mart. My Verizon broadband connection is a little slow here but I'll get by. So far this service has performed very well for me.
Night camp: Wal-Mart in Calera AL
It's No Use Arguing Tastes with a Cow
By what appears, furthermore, to be the compensating justice of Nature, the treasures of the earth are always hidden in the most unattractive, dismal, and dreary spots. At least all the mining places I ever visited are so located, and Bisbee is no exception. To get away from the cramped little village and its unsavoury restaurant, I established my first camp four miles south of it on a commodious and pleasant opening, where we could do our own cooking. But here a new annoyance, and rather a curious one, was met with. The cattle of the region evinced a peculiar predilection for our wearing apparel. Especially at night, the cows would come wandering in among our tents, like the party who goes about seeking what he may devour, and on getting hold of some such choice morsel as a sock, shirt, or blanket, Mrs. Bossie would chew and chew, “gradually,” to quote Mark Twain, “taking it in, all the while opening and closing her eyes in a kind of religious ecstasy, as if she had never tasted anything quite as good as an overcoat before in her life.” It is no use arguing about tastes, not even with a cow.