by Betsy Kepes
“You been ridin’ the rails?” The man had an old green duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
I could tell he’d checked us out as we stood on the lush lawn by the courthouse in Missoula, Montana. On my back I wore a faded red pack, and across my front I’d strapped my 5-month-old son. Seven-year-old Lee wore his own backpack, and my husband, Tom, leaned over from the weight of the huge load he carried.