Somewhere, somehow, without even noticing I crossed the line. I am now in "pop" country. Signs at C-stores read "Beer, Ice, and pop". I feel like I am really, really far from home.
Yesterday I had a long day of basically just driving around. Didn't stop much, as my ass let me know when I finally did. A perfect night to hit a bar, especially since the Raiders were playing. I found the Pit Stop about 7:00, and game time was at 8. The bartender assured me they would be watching, as she had money on the Raiders - so I wouldn't be the only one rooting for them. It was a nice place, not too empty, but not too full. Besides the bartender, I was the only female in there, but it didn't feel icky. Later, when one of the guys found out I was from California, he just shook his head and said he was sorry. "Lot of bad people out there". Funny, that's what I was afraid of out here.
The guys were all extremely nice. I got 2 beers bought for me. Right before I left, someone else tried to buy me a drink, but luckily I was already on water by then. He was the kind of guy that would buy you a drink for a reason, as opposed to the other guys, who just wanted to buy a drink for the wandering girl. I like those kinds of guys. One of them was the town mortician. He got a phone call in the middle of his second beer, and left "just for a minute". He didn't come back that night. I don't even want to think about that emergency. The other had been playing tab games all night, the kind that you only see in Bingo halls in California, and had just won $50. Good guys.
You'll notice I am pointedly not discussing the Raiders game.
I stayed until the nice guys left (including 2 guys from South Africa, brought out to cut hay), and the icky guys came. I had a great night.
24 to 0 in the first quarter!! Sheesh.
Today, wandering on back roads where you see about 1 car every 3 hours, I came up behind someone going 25 in a 65 zone. He turned out to be the oldest little man I have ever seen in my life, in a big Ford truck. After I passed him, I kind of lingered, hoping he wasn't having a heart attack or something. But no, he was steering straight and just kept on going. I think that's just how he gets there.
Does anyone know anything about Bible camps? I have been seeing signs all over for them, usually in picturesque lakeside venues, way out of any town. I am confused. Do kids go to these fabulous places, and sit inside and read the bible? "No swimming until you finish Nehemiah!" Or do they try to make outdoor games out of the bible? Turn a game of "Marco Polo" into "Sodom Gomorah". A treasure hunt with nothing at the end, because the wealth of Jesus is already inside of you.
I would like to state that I drove about 40 miles out of my way to see a tower. A really big tower. That's all.
I'm getting better at approaching people. In McHenry, a town of about 5 streets, I simply could not find the Hobo House. Of course I didn't know what it really was, all I had was the name. I was hoping for some silly gift shop made out of an old squat. Two lovely women put me on the right track - a small red shed, with names and dates and pictures etched into it on every side. McHenry somehow became the stop for hobos in the early 1900's, and they used that shed as a message board. It's been preserved over the years, and it's kinda neat to see the monikers. McHenry also has some fancy one of a kind railroad loop thingie - ask Nate, I'm sure he'll know.