I vowed not to add anything more to this blog. But some of you requested that I add something, and I react well to such acclaim.
However I will minimize the travelogue, and see if anything weird, funny or otherwise interesting happens. This actually started just before we left, when K. fell in the Grand River and ended up wrapped in Louise’s duffel coat and looked like a Hobbit.
Then there was our first gasoline stop in Michigan …
In case you have never dragged a house behind your truck, let me mention that gas stations are often a challenge. Sometimes you can get in, but then cannot get out without dreadful reversing and cursing. But this one seemed OK … the end pump was fine and we could then get out without demolishing the building. Trouble was, we were behind a beat-up, ancient pickup and the driver had disappeared into the building. Hard to reverse, so we just fumed. We waited and waited. Finally Elaine lost patience and decided to take action. She met this huge, heavily bearded “Mountain Man” and asked: “Has your truck broken down?”
I feared he would reach for his gun, but he settled for muttering “I wus only a few minutes!”
After some serious freeway driving we crossed the Mississippi, now old hat, and made it to Missouri, start of the Ozark Mountains. Since it was late October, we pulled into a State Park, confident that there would be lots of spaces free.
Darn it … Saturday night and half of St. Louis was having a last crack at summer, and we actually got the only remaining free site. Hundreds of kids, serious pumpkin carving and a happy scene. Not quite a rural retreat, but the next day the place emptied as all these poor souls had to return to work and school.
Oh, did I mention that it is now around 20C (70F) and the Fall colours are only just getting into their best clothes. Why do we do this?
We ask ourselves every year, but eating outside in late October is a good answer.