Nichole showed up about 8:30 at the reservoir and quickly went about solving my other problem. She had noticed my tired, stooped walk and diagnosed more than pure fatigue in my stride. As it turns out, Nichole was formerly a massage therapist who quit the business because too many customers in her small town expected a happy ending. We did a stretching routine designed to realign my neck, shoulders, and back.
After Nichole and I shared breakfast at Ozzie's 30, I headed west once more. Thanks to her ministrations I felt better than I had in weeks.
The ADT rejoined me in Sutherland, but broke off again on its way to Sarben. I had heard too much about a place in Paxton to possibly pass up the opportunity to see for myself.
Ole's (Oh-lees) Big Game Steakhouse and Lounge opened in 1933 as Prohibition ended. The owner was an avid hunter and over the next forty years he amassed an amazing trophy collection, two hundred examples of which found their way into the restaurant.
The collection is not meant for the hard core animal rights activist. Represented within are several endangered species (legally hunted at the time). An enormous polar bear greets you at the door like a giant middle finger pointed directly at PETA.
I tried the Rocky Mountain Oysters, which come not from the ocean, but the nether regions of a recently unmanned bull. They were sensibly served with a cocktail sauce, although I would have preferred something a little creamier. The meat was thinly sliced, fried, and tasted like a mix between chicken and country-fried steak.
The rest of my evening was testicle-free. Hmm that makes me sound like a eunuch. I relaxed and read in the park, then drifted off to sleep listening to the dulcet tones of Type O Negative singing "I Know You're F***ing Someone Else." Sweet music even soothes the savage hiker.
13 miles/2218 total miles