As we were almost out of supplies, we appreciated finding that the village of Action, a scheduled mail stop, also had a friendly supermarket, and laundromat. We all stripped down as far as modesty permitted, throwing shirts, and socks into the wash, and went shopping barefooted. Our next stop was a feed store, where we rode right up to the loading dock .

Bernice was to be the big winner that day in our Howdy campaign. I scored 27 replies. BJ did quite well by waving to a hobo riding an empty boxcar of a passing train. That fellow replied, as did six more who popped a head out to look at us with disbelief, plus the conductor riding the caboose. James gave up entirely. He perhaps was a bit too enthusiastic waving to a girl passing by, that ignored him completely. And, trying to strike up a conversation with an old man outside the laundromat, he finally realized his new found friend was a resident of the nearby mental hospital.

How Bernice won was by giggling at a bare chested fellow at the feed store walking around displaying a action tattoo of a go-go girl. His name was Earl Newell. He invited us to spend the night at his mother-in-law's.

It turned out he wasn't joking. Mr. and Mrs. Joe Augustine let us camp in their back yard, while the horses had the run of their pasture. Their idea of hospitality meant cake before bedtime, and a pot of coffee to wake up with. The next morning, Earl's wife Melody rode along for a way, to guide us out of town.

What a great feeling it was to share part of our journey with a friend that appreciated what we were trying to accomplish. Headed back into the heat and chaparral, I for one, was reluctant to leave Action.

I say that with tongue in cheek on account of one enthusiastic "Howdy" I received from a very delightful lady. A kindred soul, she had rushed from her house to wave and inquire where we were headed. Naturally I stopped and answered her questions, for this beautiful belle apparently hadn't realized she was only wearing a thin nightgown out into the bright sunlight of morning. Bernice, of course, rudely ruined this brief moment, by yelling back down the road, "Barry, you had better come along, right now!"

That was the highlight of my day. From here on, the view was nothing but devastation. The hills had been swept by fire the previous summer. There were no birds, squirrels, rabbits, bees, lizards, ants, snakes, coyotes—nothing. About the only living thing was brush. It was just by chance that we stumbled onto an artesian spring later in the afternoon, with enough grass to make it possible to layover a day.