. . . It’s your mother (so goes the old psychology joke).

I’ve had practically non-existent cell service at Stockton State Park, so haven’t had a chance to update until now.

Russ regained his mojo after we got him out of the Ozark hills, and not only caught up to me at Stockton, he rode into camp so I didn’t have to pick him up. Unfortunately, between doing laundry and seeking a solid internet connection, we didn’t have time for much else while he was with me. Regular thunderstorms took care of the rest of the free time. He finally did manage to download the next segment of his maps, so on day three, I chauffeured him past Golden City so he could make it to Pittsburg, KS that day and hopefully be on schedule to meet me again at Osage Hills State Park in Oklahoma.

So my hiking was shoehorned into the other two full days I was at Stockton. Moe and I did a 1-3/4 mile trail on our first day, and a 3-1/2 mile trail on Tuesday the 2nd. The weather cooled off just enough to make things less miserable. It was a good day for a hike.

Missouri forests are dense, dark, and damp! Most trails in the park have lake views from time to time.

in fact, it’s pretty hard to go anywhere in the vicinity of Stockton Lake without lake views. An Army COE impoundment, the lake resembles a many-tentacled octopus, with arms snaking out every which way.

With all the recent rain, there were plenty of fungi to see:

Russ accuses me of not seeing the forest for the trees—I say with these beauties underfoot, it’s hard to look up! Other sights around camp:

Back to the “If it’s not one thing…” theme:

As Monday was largely taken up with ferrying Russ 45 minutes down the road, I figured I might as well get my oil changed. There, the mechanics showed me that my tires were pretty worn and, more concerning, had uneven wear. I knew I was getting close to needing new tires, so —- better now than a breakdown on a Utah backroad. Seems like every big trip comes with one big unexpected expense. I’m just so glad that all I’ve needed with my Kia is regular maintenance—not like that d@&$ed Dodge Durango (I swear, never again will I buy an American car!).

Barring any mishaps, we should have a more relaxing time here at Osage Hills State Park in Pawhuska, OK. There is reasonable cell service, and I have both water and electric hookups. And the weather has dried out a bit. I have shade and a nice breeze. Now if the new neighbors’ dog would stop barking…