A lovely pancake breakfast was had at the local cafe, but the mood turned a little somber as the waitress who was serving us plainly stated that Cuba was a dying community. True, that as we walked about town yesterday we saw some vacant lots and closed businesses, evidence of economic struggles during a downturn, but to have the point driven home by a person who actually works and resides here was indeed sobering. There seemed little in her voice that left room for hope of a recovery. It made me wonder how long Mrs. Yang could hold out. I mean a few dozen thru-hikers each year doesn't exactly fill the coffers. I suppose that on the brighter side of things, us passing through did contribute a smidgen to the local economy and that in trying times, patrons are valued even more. It made me wonder what people really do out here to earn a living. If it wasn't ranching, what then? A few government jobs with the Bureau of Land Management or something connected to gas exploration or mining? I'm not sure that many people zipping through the rural byway took the time to stop at the cafe we were currently sitting in. Tough times in small town America, but nothing I hadn't seen before on other trails. Somehow, despite all the doom and gloom, there are those that find a way to hang on.
Later that morning, Wyoming left us. She can't afford much down time because she'll be off trail for a whole month attending a course given by the National Outdoor Leadership School. She'd like to get back on the CDT and finish her thru-hike once the class has ended, but I sincerely doubt that's realistically possible. Nevertheless, if she is to do it, there can't be a day wasted. Blister took off as well, the Circle A Ranch being his destination since he had his resupply box sent there. I must admit it's hard remaining in town when others you feel you should be ahead of are already back on trail. That being said, I remind myself that I've chosen the group route and I'm committed to it.
In the afternoon, I went out to try and find the prairie dog town that Shroomer had informed me about. Imagine my surprise to find these little varmints living right in the middle of a human town. A large expanse of dirt and grass near the library and unfinished community center was home to a horde of the cute little rascals who'd dug dozens of burrows and great lengths of underground tunnels. With nothing for me to hide behind, the whistle pig standing erect on watch would let out a squeak and those dining on blades of grass would rush into their hidey-holes before I could even get close. In order to get a picture, I was forced to peek around the corner of the community center and snap a quick shot of a couple who were unaware of my approach. It was rather enjoyable to watch the prairie dog community for a while.
In the evening, we witnessed a somewhat rare celestial event, a solar eclipse. Shroomer created a pinhole camera by poking a small hole in the center of a paper plate. Standing with our backs to the sun, we focused the light coming through the pinhole on a second plate and with a little adjustment had a very clear image of the moon directly in front of the sun. When it was at full eclipse the world didn't go black like some scene in an apocalyptic film, but it did appear as if a dimmer switch had been thrown and what light was left took on a slightly different hue. What can I say. It was neat!
The evening meal was home-cooked due to the efforts of Nancy and a small microwave. Potatoes and chicken. Mnumm! As I lay my head on the pillow at lights out, I was itching to be back out there. Can't wait for tomorrow to be back on trail.
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| Cuba Community Center and Prairie Dog Town |
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| The Little Varmints |
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| Solar Eclipse |
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