It was hard to do, but I drove past the sign reading, “World’s Biggest Golf Tee.” Sure I’d like to see it and yes I have a place in mind where I’d like to see it deeply installed but I don’t have that luxury. I had already passed the “Horseshoe Pitching Hall of Fame,” which was also a difficult decision.
If it wasn’t for the pandemic I would have stopped and lingered over Uncle Billy’s golden horseshoes or his Bud Lite cooler which was on display with his lucky shorts. And the golf tee along with the “World’s Biggest Mailbox” would have lured me off I-70 if I hadn’t been closing in on my destination.
When you are crossing this great big country with a small dog in a small RV, you have to choose your attractions wisely. There’s so much to see on the way to a lakeside cabin in Maine.
Despite mankind’s best efforts, the most gratifying and memorable experiences are provided by water, trees, sunshine and rain.
I forgot about rain until I drove into a storm cell in Missouri. The rain in the plains is f#$+ing insane! Visibility went from miles to millimeters in a matter of a few seconds. I’m a pretty good driver but I was clutching the wheel like an Indy Car driver coming into the last turn with the pack hot on my heels. After 15 minutes it was all over and the world returned.
And Kansas? Kansas is the real land of lakes and me and Chooch found ourselves on the shore of a big manmade one. We took a spin on the stand up paddleboard, braving wind and waves caused by power boats and wave runners. After making it back safely to shore we decided to take a little dip.
I thought that all dogs knew how to swim. I was wrong about that. I got in the water and encouraged my little 25-pound shelter mutt to swim out. He did. Doggy style. Cute. His little legs propelled him along and things were going swimmingly. But then I started wading to shore and encouraged him to follow. I watched in horror as he rolled over like a sea cucumber, the stubby legs paddling air and the belly in the up position. I grabbed him just before he went under looking for Davy Jones’ locker.
In Indiana we stopped at Lieber State Recreation Area. It was quiet and foggy and moist. Moss was growing on everything from the trees to the picnic tables. The trees created a dense thicket with a canopy 70 feet up. Ash, maple, willow, red pines. It was like an American rainforest not all that far from the world’s most famous oval asphalt.
Rain had fallen recently and the trees shed droplets when the breeze came up. I made rice on the stove and just gazed into the gathering dusk. As darkness fell, bright embers began to swim in my vision. I’ve seen tracers before but this was different. Fireflies danced all about us as we watched nature’s Netflix display. I was thinking that it must be a lot of work lighting up while flying around. What remarkable skill.
Kind of like penetrating a storm cell in Ohio while you are driving 70 on I-70 surrounded by 18-wheelers in a hurry to bring truckloads of plastic crap to American consumers. Now that’s work.
Steve Skinner is on the road where he has noticed that there is a McDonald’s on every exit as you head east on I-70. Reach him at nigel@sopris.net.
The Link LonkAugust 04, 2020 at 04:00PM
https://www.aspendailynews.com/opinion/skinner-gripping-the-wheel-of-freedom/article_57426af8-d5e1-11ea-bcf0-fb6ef0dcee08.html
Skinner: Gripping the wheel of freedom - Aspen Daily News
https://news.google.com/search?q=Wheel&hl=en-US&gl=US&ceid=US:en
No comments:
Post a Comment