I studied the wind forecast carefully and decided to leave at the precise moment that the wind would shift in my favor this morning.... Just kidding. I was lazy about leaving the room and pulling myself away from TV. I had a ways to go today but figured it would be easier than yesterday. So I finally left around 9:30, and the wind really helped me today at first. I also had a huge shoulder so I was happy to just ride US 2. But after I went through the little town of Chinook, the shoulder disappeared. And actually had a pretty nasty crosswind. Not long after I was able to bypass several miles on the parallel old highway which was gravel. There still wasn't a shoulder when I got back and so when I made it to Harlem and took a break to eat some ice cream at a park, I looked at the map and decided to take a chance on a gravel road that followed the railroad perfectly for a long while. It was pretty good gravel and the wind had begun to swing my way a bit. I was in great spirits after the soda and ice cream I had just eaten in town. The temperature was oppressively hot, low to mid nineties, and it felt worse because I was getting used to the cooler weather the past few days. Before too long I saw an Amtrak train go by. This was the first time I'd seen one all trip. Not long after, I rode by a long freight train stopped on a siding. Whenever I ride by railcars I lookout for tags and interesting graffiti. I actually spotted a tag of one of the people who were inspirational to me and helped me in times of depression and helped stir the flames of vagabonding within me. He was just a little known YouTuber hobo but to the small community of fans that followed him he was wonderful. He had a sharp wit, never visited a town that he liked(it was almost a running joke), and a great talent for playing piano renditions of old 90s alternative songs. He actually died a few years ago, by being struck by an Amtrak train... RIP Stobe the Hobo. P.S. don't drink and hop freight trains, it's a bad combination. After that I spit back onto the highway but I had a decent shoulder and the wind was howling almost directly behind me so I made ground fast. I passed a historical marker that said that Kid Curry, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid actually robbed a Great Northern train near the spot where the marker stood, just a couple miles outside Malta. I rode by the spot on the little gravel side road that probably used to be the old main road. I rolled into town, wasted no time and went directly to the city park with the campground. There were cars parked everywhere so I was worried that it was possibly full, it is a Saturday after all. I rolled up and the park itself looked empty. So I went ahead and filled out an envelope and paid my fee of only 5$... Crazy deal. I rode through the park and saw the reason for all the cars. There were lots of chairs and canopies set up, and everyone was dressed up in their finest cowboy hats and boots, so it had to be a wedding. Sure enough that's what it was and from the other corner of the park under a big tree I overheard the ceremony. Now I've just about seen everything on this trip. I just need to drop in on a funeral for it to be complete.