Today we did 25 miles with about the same amount of pain and suffering as yesterday; lots and lots in other words. I want to believe that we hadn’t sufficient recovery time from the day before as we both woke up stiff and somewhat in pain.

We set out at 10 am but didn’t get into Litchfield until 4:15 pm and it took us another hour and a half to hobble/walk to the hotel. Pushing the baby jogging stroller, while relatively easy, is still acting to keep our mph average down.

We knew exactly where the hotel was from GPS but we were both a little grumpy that it was so far away as it was over 3 miles from where we landed on the southwest edge of town to literally the other side of town; something we both found pretty surprising for this little town of ten thousand. These towns give new meaning to the word sprawl.

The chaplain that we met in Hutchinson yesterday morning at breakfast told us it was [only] ‘bout a mile’. He met us incoming at Litchfield and wheeled his vehicle over to the shoulder of the road to say hello. And ‘bout a mile’ was his response to our query of how far to the hotel.

It isn’t surprising now that we are starting to get a better lay of the land just how disconnected everyone seems to be from measuring or understanding distances in miles. Generally distances are best comprehended in driving time like ‘bout 20 minutes’.

This meshes nicely with the spread-outness of things and the generally complete lack of infrastructure. We didn’t see a single anything between Hutchinson and Litchfield. That’s no gas station, no convenience store, no nothing; only farm houses, big barns and silos. We haven’t seen a single grocery store in 3 days. I asked the chaplain about that and he said Litchfield had 2; including Walmart’s.

We had dinner at the Eagle’s Club, a fraternal organization of men that if memory serves is much like the Elk’s Club which I remember from childhood as being a repository of big drinks and rural fine dining. The answer to, ‘where’s the best place to eat close by?’  turned out to be the single best piece of information received yet on this trip

I was positively excited when I saw walleye (a bug eyed version of the fresh water predator, pike; a big missile shaped fish that reminds me of its salt water cousin the barracuda) on the menu as I have been wanting to eat either this or fried perch since we started out; another childhood memory thing.

I asked if it was fresh and our waitress/bartender got all squinty eyed on me and said, ‘You can’t keep fish fresh (so of course it’s frozen, moron)’. I said that it didn’t hurt to ask and her reply to that was ‘there’s nothing fresh in Minnesota’.

Dinner was excellent. Two nice filets each (broiled) served with a salad (garlicky croutons and all), and baked potato wrapped in aluminum foil served with butter and sour cream.

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