After the disturbing drooping truck driver incident, I found breakfast at a Perkins restaurant in some town along the way. I actually had to ask the waitress “What state am I in?”, to which she replied, “Wyoming”. Good to know. We chatted a bit about my journey while she admired my truck through the window. She thanked me for my service, which kind of made me feel good. It was funny, and I’m not sure why I did it, but I kept saying “Yes, Ma’am”, when talking to her. She’s younger than me – aren’t you technically supposed to only say that if the woman is older than you?
I got to Cook Lake around lunchtime and was happy to find that it’s a beautiful little lake. The campground host is Skip, a really nice guy who pretends to not be one. He made sure I knew where everything was and recommended an easier way out than the 18 mile dirt road I came in on. And yes, we did get around to talking about prostate cancer. His reluctance, like most men, was largely due to fear of that latex glove. I suggested that, at the very least, an annual PSA test could save his life.
There was another guy I spoke with while I was there and he had the same complaint. Pretty much not willing to face the glove. He was a young man, who clearly figured he was not old enough to think about it yet, but his wife was in earshot, so hopefully, when the time comes, she’ll have some influence.
The point I want to get across, and seem to be struggling with, is that a blood test is nothing to endure compared to advanced prostate cancer, or any cancer, for that matter. And that latex glove? Not pleasant, but again, how would you feel if you avoided that, either from fear, pride or embarrassment, only to find out years down the road that you don’t get to live to meet your grandchildren? Just sayin’.
I wrapped up my day by organizing my truck. Not because I’m such an organized guy or am particularly smart about organization, in fact, quite the contrary. This organizing session was not by choice. I could not, for the life of me, find the nozzle you need to refill your car tires after you let the air out of them. This is an important thing to have. When driving on gravel roads, it helps to air down the tires, so I dropped them from 40 pounds to 28, which made for a much smoother ride. When it came time to refill them, the air compressor is built in, can’t lose that, and air hose in hand, I was positive, like POSITIVE, that the nozzle was in there as well. I literally took everything out of the truck and piled it up on the picnic table. If you’ve seen my truck all packed up, you KNOW that’s a lot of stuff! No luck. Back into the truck, box by box, bag by bag, checking everything again before putting it in, and finally, there it was…in the very first box I had dragged out at the beginning.
And we’re off to Devils Tower in Wyoming.