Hop and I stare across a simple concrete bridge covered in snow at the town of Bemidji. To our left and our right are two large lakes, we're on a sort of land bridge in-between. Only the snowy rooftops of a few brick buildings can be seen from here, as well as some chimney smoke, the rest is blocked by trees. In the middle of the bridge, on the other side, A man stands tall. I turn to Hop, "Do ya reckon he's a guard?" Hop turns to me, "Oh ya, they're usin' the remnants of downtown as a settlement, I've heard." Hop's voice is rough, but soothing in a way, "Alrighty, let's not dilly-dally." We start to move across the bridge, the man keeps an eye on us, and the closer we get, the more I can make out of him, and the buildings in the distance. The man has silver hair, and is wearing a thick green canvas coat. In his hands is a hunting shotgun. He eyes us tiredly, "Excuse me dere!" Calls the guard. We stop, and I respond, "Ya!?" the man uses his hands to amplify his voice "Sorry about stoppin' ya so far, can't be too safe here, so close to the line!" "That's ok!" I shout in reply, "What'd be yer business here?" Asks the man, "We're lookin' fer a library! We heard... well, my friend here heard about it!" He nods, "And what'r yer names?!" "I go by Hopdi!" Shouts Hop, "An' I'm Malvin!" I say. The man swings the shotgun on his back, "Okee, come on in fellas! Welcome to Bemidji!" We mosey down the street, and I shake hands with the guard, "It's a pleasure, fellas, we don't get too many new visitors here! I'm Henry." I nod and grin, "Nice ta meetcha too!" He then turns to Hop, "We don't get many ghouls 'round here, either! Nice ta meetcha ya, too!" He shakes hands with Hop. "I assume you two are headed to the Carnegie Library, ya?" I nod, "Oh ya." The man points down the street, "Well, just down the road, past the visitor center. Oh, and before I forget, you should check out Mia's market, a block west of the library. She always gives me heck if I don't refer newcomers to her store." I nod, "Sounds good." Hop shifts his weight to the left, "Hey, do ya know any good places fer a drink? A beer'd change things fer the better." Henry nods, "Ya, just across from Mia's, actually. Called I think 'The Lumberjack's Lager,' real nice place." Hop nods in thanks, "Well we'd better get goin' then." I say, "Oh, ya, probably shouldn't keep ya too long now. One quick question though, what are ya lookin' for? Most a' the books in dere are fallin' apart." I smile, "Well, we're actually lookin' fer records, music records. I've got a plan ta start up an old radio station and play music fer the whole midwest! There's a place I've seen over in Duluth, it's almost in perfect condition, just need some music to play there, and my friend Hop remembered this place before the war." Henry smiles with delight, "Finally, we'll have a use fer those darned radios! Well, good luck to you fellas!" We nod, and start walking down the street, "Nice ta meetcha Henry!" We wave goodbye as we continue down the street.
After a few moments we reach the edge of downtown, the buildings are a little shoddy, but people are still usin' 'em. There are signs made of wood for a buncha different stores. The main few blocks are on our right, to our left is the shore of Lake Bemidji. Through a few dead trees down the road, we can spot two odd lookin' statues, "Haha! They are still here!" Exclaims Hop, running towards the statues. I follow him, and we stop at a green-roofed building and the two statues, one of a huge blue bull, and one of a tall, tall man, dressed like a lumberjack. They're a bit faded, and look a little rickety, like the rest of the town. Hop smiles and admires the statues, "So... who was he?" I ask. Hop turns to me, "Oh, right. This here is Paul Bunyon-" He points to the lumberjack, "-the stories say he was about that tall, and he'd help out all the other lumberjacks by chopping an entire acre of trees in one swing!" I grin, "That's sure malarkey!" Hop shrugs, "It's just a tall tale my Ma told me when I was little." I take in the statues, "Ya." I say simply. We continue our walk down the street, waving hello to a few trappers and settlers as we pass by. The streets are a little barren, only a few people out and about. Must be because of the weather. I turn to Hop, "Glad it's not too cold out!" Hop smiles "Ha, ya." In but a few short moments, we reach a small, lonely brick building on the left with a faded sign above the door saying "Carnegie Library," I eye the building. Not two blocks from the library is the edge of downtown Bemidji, quite a small place. "Okee, let's grab some music, then head on over to that Mia gal's shop." Hop looks at me expectantly, "And the bar after that?" I smile, "You betcha!" We step inside the building. To the left of the door is an abandoned checkout desk, "Hello?" I call out. No response. The building has a main part to the right with all the bookshelves, taking up two levels, and the miscellaneous section is across from the door. We walk across the thin red carpet, our boots making soft thuds with each step. It's very quiet in here, although I suppose not every building here is populated, there's probably only around forty to fifty people out there, maybe half of which are traveling trappers. The miscellaneous section has five shelves, three of which are comics, one is toys, and the other is records. I walk over to the records and kneel down. I take off my big camping pack and open it up. I then start taking records and checking to see if they're usable. Most of them are folk singers, Leadbelly, Blind Lemon Jefferson, the like. A few at the top are some real popular ones, Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby. Sure enough, they're in pretty good condition. Surprisingly the bombs didn't damage a lot of the northern midwest, probably because there weren't many things to damage. "Heh, lookie what I found, Mal." Says Hop mischievously, I lean over and peek my head out to see Hop grinning and holding up two copies of "Live and Love". I smile back, "Toss one my way, ya?" He throws one over, and I tuck it into my pack, along with all the good records, only twelve. For fun, I examine The toy shelf, and take an eyebot model kit. "What's that fer?" Asks Hop, "Oh, just gatherin' little trinkets fer decoration." "Interesting." He replies, I stand and slip my bag on my back, "That's that then! Let's head on over to that shop, a block..." "West a' here." Hop finishes. "Ya."
We walk back outside and head straight across the street. A small brick building on the corner has a sign with big green letters "Mia's Trading Post". Most of downtown is used for living. Across from Mia's is the bar, and from the looks of it, they've got bedrooms for rent. A group of fur trappers exit Mia's and go directly across the street. We walk up to the shoddy wood door and push it open. Inside are metal shelves full of a whole slew of stuff. "Hi dere! If ya need ta find somethin' just ask!" I smile and wave, "Thank ya." Hop walks over to a shelf full of weapons. I scan a few shelves, some have electronic parts, some have cups and forks and bowls, some have just junk. I find a few shelves of food, some grown and some prewar. I grab two tins of Cram. Let's see... I think that's all we need. I walk over to Hop, "Hey dere, whatcha lookin' at?" He turns around holding a frag grenade and smiles, "I love explosives!" He says. I chuckle, "Alrighty then. Did they have any mentats?" Hop shakes his head, "Nadda." We walk on over to the counter, "Hey dere fellas! Say, I don't think I've seen yer face around here, are ya new?" I nod, "Oh ya, we're newcomers-" Hop cuts in, "Just passin' through." He says. She nods, "Well welcome to Bemidji! Feel free to come back anytime, my store is always open... hey, did Henry at tha bridge refer ya here?" I smile and nod, "Ya, real nice guy." She nods, "Oh ya, I've gotta thank him later! So, what's your deal, you two trappers?" I shake my head, and Hop answers, "No ma'am, just a few travelers." Ah ha! "Oh, one sec, do ya have any fusion batteries?" I ask Mia. She purses her lips in thought, "Ahh, ya actually, check by the far wall, top shelf." I nod, "Thanks!" "Oh no problem!" She replies. I walk on over to the shelf and start looking, oh shoot! Water too! As I search I listen in, "So, what's yer friend need with a fusion battery?" Asks Mia, "Well, we're headed to Duluth to try and start up an old radio station, we came here for some records from the library." Answers Hop, "Ah, ya! That'd be nice to have a radio station out here! Well good luck to ya fellas!" I find a battery, and on the way back I grab four bottles of water. "Find one?" Asks Hop. I hold it up and put it on the table, "Oh ya." I say. We pay fifty-six caps, and pocket our stuff, "So, how come you wanta start a radio station?" Asks Mia, "Well, ya see I don't much wander, I just ain't built for that life, although do like brightening people's day, and I thought, 'well music sure keeps people's spirits up,' so Hop and I searched the Twin Cities and Duluth, and well the station that was in the best condition was in Duluth, so now we're gathering music and components so we can get it up and running, and actually have music to play." Mia nods, "Well you'd best be careful, the glowin' forest sets between you and Duluth." I smile, "Don't worry, we're pretty tough! We survived the Twin Cities, dontcha know!" We start walking to the door, "Well you two have a nice trip now!" We wave goodbye, "Seeya!" And with that, we leave to the street. "Well, I suppose one beer couldn't hurt," I say. Hop nods, "Oh ya, one or three." I smile, and we walk on over to the bar. Inside a few rough-looking trappers sit around tables, sharing stories and laughin' real loud. The bar is in the middle, we walk over and take a seat, "Hello fellas, what can I get ya?" Hop smiles, "A beer, please." I shift in my seat, "Got any pop?" The bartender nod, "Oh ya, comin' right up!" He says warmly. I turn to Hop, "So, how do ya suppose we get around tha glowin' forest? Going up'll be the safer path." I say, Hop shakes his head, "That'd add two days to an already four and a half day trip. The faster way is round the south side." I nod, "Ya, that's true, but that brings us real close to the line." Hop shrugs, "I'd rather get shot than starve or freeze. An' ya said it yourself, we're pretty tough." The bartender sets down a beer and Nuka-Cola. I turn to him, "Thanks, sir." He nods, "Oh ya." He then turns and walks over to a table of trappers, "So... ya know... ya. Let's go 'round the south side." We simultaneously chug our drinks down. I throw down eight caps and we head back out into the cold.