Back to Fremont

This morning we discovered a screw sticking through the sole of Jim's hiking boot.  When they were resoled, someone used too long of a screw.  Fortunately, it had not put a hole in his foot, but we decided it would probably be better to have it taken out.  This required returning to Fremont to see Dave Page the Cobbler.  It's not that far, but the route runs through the Mercer Mess, an area of traffic nightmares hitherto unknown to modern man, recently made worse by attempts to fix it, resulting in closed streets, coned off lanes and general mayhem.  It's a trying drive.  After Mr. Page replaced the offending screw, we walked around Fremont for a bit.  It's a determinedly quirky part of Seattle.
This is the bridge, after being raised to let the red sailboat through.

A store selling steel commuter bicycles.  That's an ancient Schwin out in front.

 

I have no idea.  After looking at their website, I think it might have something to do with juicing pot so you can cook with it.

 

We've spent hours trying to plot a course from Rapid City, SD to the south and west.  It's so interesting to look at a park receiving a 7/8/7 (out of 10) rating from Trailer Life, and then reading reviews on rvparksreview.com and the opening line is "This is a really scary park."  Looking at reviews along I80 across the bottom of Wyoming, it appears that tough economic times are forcing many people to take up residence in parks, and that maintenance is being deferred.  So, now we're thinking we'll go straight down the eastern side of Colorado towards Pueblo instead.  Trip planning is so tedious.  To all of you who take the time to review RV parks, thank you.
The feet situation continues to deteriorate.  Round two of the orthotics arrived from the lab.  They're different, they're perhaps marginally better, but urban walking for more than a mile or so is still off the table.  Things have been stable for 3 or 4 years, I do not understand why my left foot has up and decided to plague me this way.  It's very mysterious and very depressing.
Other than this, maties, I have zippity doo-dah all to report.