Some folk call it small, but…

I am from a small town, well most North Carolina towns are small. Small towns hold some wonders that is overlooked by many.

Sometimes we have the opportunity to overnight in small communities. We eat out in these places, and always look for the favorite home town café . Our little town of Belmont has White’s Café. I used it in my book ‘Rags’.  I do happen to know the owners and have for many years. Great folks.  I used the line from owner‘s mom in the book. Once I said that Carroll was a great guy. Her comeback was, “He should be, he was raised in the White house.”

But back to the subject. We have really enjoyed walking the small main streets for exercise and informative entertainment. Once we had an annoying squeak I could not find. I wanted a grease gun. (I think we were coming East in Kansas).  That night in a VERY  SMALL town, I found a mechanic. He said, “I can’t sell you one but you can use mine, I’ll close soon, just bring it back and lay it on the steps.”  I didn't borrow it, but isn’t that wonderful to meet someone like that?

Just a few days ago I embarrassed myself. While shopping I left our van lights on. DEAD BATTERY.   I hate to ask strangers for help. I did raise the hood, hoping a good Samaritan would come by. We belong to ‘Good Sam’s Road assistance’. Sherry called them.  While she was talking to someone in California, two generous men offered to help. Sherry cancelled the request for help. The man who jumped the battery would accept nothing for the kindness.  Nice folks exist.

We were camping down near Paula’s stomping grounds (San Antonio) and decided to find a small town to walk in. On the map, Bandera looked and sounded good. As we walked around the town we found a one man museum. Small but a really neat place.

Once leaving Yellowstone into Wyoming we came to a small town called Basin. Population around 1000 and it was the county seat. They offered free RV sites with full hook ups. We missed that but stayed at a spot for $10 a night (honor system).

We found the local café, Sherry was chilled and did not bring a sweater (UNUSUAL) so we went next door to a thrift shop and found one for 50 cents.( I apologize for the length, but I have to tell this.)

Back at the motor home, Sherry was tired. The county fair was next door.  A cowboy and his wife drove into the parking area as I walked over (I was not deaf then). A little cowboy about 5 or 6 jumped out of the p/u bed and said I’ll see you later dad, okay? The answer would astound folks back East or West Coast.

“Sure Son, find someone you know and stick with them, have fun!”  Little cowboy went running between the little girls brushing and cleaning their sheep and boys polishing their goats horns.  That scene has stuck with me, and at that time it put me back 50 years to North Carolina where that could have happened.

Thanks for coming by the log.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

Small is all in how you look at it.

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This could have been that cowboy’s pickup.