Karma and My Tennessee Adventure

Karma is a (construction language). Last week I (gleefully) wrote a story about Girl Twin on a car trip to Vermont with five other people and one dog. Riding in a car to Vermont seemed almost cruel to me.

Somehow, for a reason I cannot comprehend, Girl Twin was looking forward to the trip. Elaine told Girl Twin she could go on the trip. I just laughed and laughed. Girl Twin was going to be miserable. Hey, sometimes you need to experience a little pain to learn a life lesson.

Having just found Girl Twin’s car trip so amusing, without giving it a second thought I decided to take a car trip myself.

Did I mention that I wasn’t planning on a road trip for myself, therefore, Elaine (and I) allowed Girl Twin to take my luggage to Vermont? I was forced to use a small 30-year-old bright pink suitcase on my trip. It really didn’t matter, I was just going to be gone for a few days.

Nothing about my car trip is comparable to Girl Twin’s except for the car part. Girl Twin’s destination was Vermont. Mine was Tennessee. Girl Twin was with five people in one car. I was with two people in two pickups. Girl Twin was asked to ride along. I volunteered to drive.

Our dear friends (Elaine’s and mine) recently sold their Colorado home and were returning to Tennessee. I was between construction projects. I had never been to Tennessee. I asked to come along. Maybe I could help with the move. My friends said yes. I was going to Tennessee!

It wasn’t lost on me that I had laughed at Girl Twin for her desire for a long car ride. Car rides are miserable.

Less than one hundred miles into our trip we blew a tire on the trailer carrying stuff to Tennessee. After a quick tire change on the shoulder of I-25 with cars and semis flying by, we were headed to Tennessee again.

If for some reason you think I helped change the tire, I’m sorry, you are wrong. Changing a tire on a busy highway, I scratched that off my bucket list years ago. It was one of my travel mates (in his twenties) who scratched tire changing off his bucket list.

Twenty miles farther down the road my twenty something travel mate scratched changing a tire off his bucket list, AGAIN! Yep, two flat tires in the first two hours of our trip. Time to buy new tires. All was not lost; there happened to be a really good Mexican restaurant next to the tire shop.

An omelet with green chili and two new tires later, and we were headed for Kansas. If you attended public school, you might not know that Kansas is between Colorado and Tennessee. Just kidding, I went to public school.

Kansas is a large state with an interstate highway that crosses the entire state. My travel mates and I looked forward to every food/bathroom break Kansas offered. What else is there to do? We were on a car trip. Oh, we read billboards and saw the rock fence posts. We now know that Kansas is home to two astronauts, Dwight Eisenhower and Bob Dole. That’s the kind of info you can learn by reading billboards in Kansas.

I noticed a billboard that advertised a yarn store in Kansas. Colorado does not have yarn store billboards. Our stores don't merit billboards, we are just too small. Just imagine if Your Daily Fiber could have a billboard. You guys could drive by and wonder what menial task Ivy is asking Ol' Monner to do. Sorry, you start to daydream on long car trips.

It was planned to spend the first night of our trip (From here out I will exchange the word trio to adventure.) in Junction City, Kansas. Reservations had been made in a hotel outside of Fort Riley, the military base. After a great nights’ sleep on a bed with SIX of the best pillows I have ever experienced, I met a young military man in the hallway of the hotel.

The military man and I were conversing in the elevator, when I noticed this soldier would not look at me. Oh, he was looking at something. In fact, he was staring, staring at my bright pink luggage. I thanked him for his service, the door opened, and he darted out. I would have told him about Girl Twin, but he didn’t stick around.

Off to Missouri. The map guys try to confuse you here. They put Kansas City in Kansas, (where it belongs) then you cross a river and they sneak you into Kansas City, Missouri. How can there be two Kansas Cities? These are the things that come across your mind when you spent ten hours in a vehicle the previous day.

I tried to think about different things to keep my mind off the fact that my neck was getting stiff and my shoulder was throbbing. Somewhere Girl Twin was laughing, I just know she was laughing. Karma.

We passed the Kansas City Royals baseball stadium. It was in the Missouri, Kansas City. Yes, it can be confusing. The stadium had a billboard touting the number of World Series the Royals have won. I hope to see this at the Rockies Stadium someday. This has nothing to do with my adventure and I don’t know why I’m talking about this.

With Kansas City on the western edge of Missouri, I soon learned St. Louis was on the eastern edge.of Missouri. OK, I knew St. Louis was on the eastern edge of Missouri. I once worked for a company headquartered in St. Louis. In my forty years of construction, it was the only company I felt I needed to burn a bridge with. OK, there was one more but who's counting?

What I did learn is it takes a long time to drive across Missouri. Guess what’s between Kansas City and St. Louis. Yep, corn and cows! It is a beautiful green colored state. Not the cows, the cows are black.

Missouri has its share of billboards. As we got closer to St. Louis we started noticing billboard advertising a cowboy boot store. My travel mate had been to this store and asked me if I wanted to stop at the store.

I have been known to wear cowboy boots, so I said, “Let’s stop!” This store was like no store (cowboy or other) I have ever been in. This store has 30,000 pairs of boots on the shelves. Yes, this store has 30,000 pairs of boots ON THE SHELVES.

After looking at about 200 pairs of boots I became so confused, my head was spinning. The last thing you want is a spinning head when your neck is stiff and your shoulder is sore from a long car ride. However, it was certainly worth stopping at the boot store, where else is there 30,000 pairs of boots. Besides, I could see a sandwich shop up the road from the boot store parking lot.

I don’t think Missouri had the hometown of any astronauts. They did have the hometown of Mark Twain, but we did not stop. I think Missouri is the home of a President, but they don’t put that information on billboards in Missouri.

We spent the second night in Marion, Illinois. We didn’t stop for the night until after we learned about why there was a billboard of a young George Harrison/the Beatles along the highway in Benton, Illinois. Not the Beatles, just George.