By MONTE DUTTON

On Saturday I spent much of the day sightseeing. I took the camera along. My driving skills came in more handy. Trees mostly blocked the vistas I sought, but I accidentally discovered an almost direct way from here to Cullowhee, where I haven’t seen a football game in more than 40 years.

I was checking the schedules Friday night. I might catch the Blue Hose there. I have astounded myself with a fascination with the World Cup, which I recommend as a source of geography for youngsters. I know what the capital of Cape Verde is. Praia.

When the World Cup is over, however, I’m satisfied I’m going to be yearning for helmets and pads.

Had I known I was going to reach Cullowhee, I wouldn’t have worn a Furman baseball jersey, but few were around to heckle me, and, besides, the Paladins do not field a baseball team anymore, so what does it matter?

Lake Toxaway is North Carolina’s largest private lake, which means it’s ringed by swanky houses and hard to get to.

There’s not a pressing crush of civilization between here and Cullowhee. When I go back, I should remember to have gas.

I ate at a place called The Cat’s Table in Cullowhee. I didn’t know it was Mexican until I walked in. The waitress was sweet. The food was good.

My uninterrupted streak of needing two tries to do anything continues. It dates back at least to the writing of a check for the shoe box.

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Most of my books are available at Amazon. Two of my novels, Cowboys Come Home and Lightning in a Bottle, are available in audio versions.