September 28: Camping in the Malta town park was a little sketchy. Whole I was cooking dinner in the windy dark night, this meth head kept walking by. Later, I was in my tent a group of heads drive up to get high in the public rests. You hear the darndest things on the other side of the thin walls of a tent. Learning from my last trip to the Bahamas, I slept with my cell gripped in one hand and my hatchet in the other. As the signs say on the Sioux Rez, Meth Hiyah! luckily nothing happened besides a little less sleep and a forty minute bout with the town sprinklers spraying alarmingly close to my tent.

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