The sun never came out the entire day, and in one way, that was a good thing. A lot of walking in the sun in fall can mean a lot of roasting, totally dependent on the number of layers you wear. There were days when I got home from these excursions basted like a turkey, a nice film of slime covering my body. I don't even want to mention my feet. I was already on pair of boots number 3 for the year.
With a cellarhole, a swishing brook and an old abandonded roadway at Cadwell Memorial Forest, I finished my second of back-to-back big days. I lamented the lack of trail maps of the forest, but then, it seemed that at the end of November I should have understood that trail map season had run out. Besides, my collection was certainly big enough after all the walking I'd done to that point in the year.
It had been 21 towns in two days. There had been no change with my dad down in Florida. We were at the point of monitoring specific levels of bodily functions; this was up, that was down. Either way, he was still in a coma, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to change that fact.
I focused on the project. I had 22 towns to go, and the whole month of December to do them in.
But November wasn't over yet.