Wednesday, August 27, 2003. 515 miles in 11 hours
We are ready to go at 2:30 pm. Stop to pickup photodiscs. Here's the "new" LeSabre, but you really can't appreciate the full measure of packing efficiency from this picture. I tried to catch Sam escaping, but he backed up just before I snapped this.
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Bob will jump into any car, any time, and yet, he's frequently a little nervous. But he settled right in to his tiny little space in the passenger seat. Being next to the cooler does have its advantages, as he is always close to the next string cheese or turkey sandwich.
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I have no explanation for Sam's relatively mild reaction to this enterprise. I have described him as a danger to all on the road in previous motoring excursions, and have scars to prove it. With 3 or 4 seemingly unsuccessful attempts to feed him in his kennel in the back seat behind us, I made a last minute executive decision to jettison the kennel (too big) and risk his free range as far as the nearest PetSmart, where I intended to buy a much smaller one. After a few miles and the stop to buy camera discs, I felt he was ready to go kennel-less. It was a miracle.
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I've made this trip to the Bay Area or back many times, back as far as the late 70's, when I would stop and see Mom and Dad, and it has been my preferred route ever since. This would perhaps be our only opportunity for Bob and Sam to visit my old homestead, and so we took a short, but very efficient, detour through Mankato, stopping at the house at 238 Lincoln...
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...where we found an unfamiliar driveway with 2 unfamiliar dogs. I was cat-wrangling on the little traffic triangle, when the 2 residents appeared, so I had to stop and adjust my plans, when Bob ventured alone to meet the usurpers, and...
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...he wasted no time in visiting "my roots", those planted by some rogue squirrel circa 1970. I've always considered it "my tree", but in reality all I did was not mow it down, which I guess is as strong a claim as any. I called him back and the tree's current owners were left to ponder the aroma and possible significance of this strange visitor.
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There are a several of you in the universe of my email address book that may recognize this house and address, 139 Clark, the House of Duane. Serendipity smiled as I pulled up, lowered the electric window and encouraged Bob to see "who's that?", and, as always, he assumed the position of attention just when there was something to see, another dog, and a somewhat less important but puzzled minder.
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And what trip down memory lane would be complete without a visit to one's alma mater, in this case, Mankato High School, taken from the gas station across the street.
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I made the decision to include this many Mankato pictures because I spent a lot of time there, and I'm hoping that there are about 20 of you out there, of the 1000's of viewers that this story is destined to have, that might actually care, and if you don't, just move on. Just move on.
Anyone notice a stylistic trend yet? I call it the "back of Bob's head motif", or BOBHM, for short, and I warn you that there is more coming.
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Sam spent large portions of the trip, but in short durations, in 2 places. Here's one..
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...and here's the other. Well, not exactly. He did like to spend time sleeping on the floor to the left of my left foot, up against the door. Dad, and the the rest of you, I assure you there is plenty of room for my feet and a cat on the floor of the car. I bought a little cat bed to put on the large cardboard platform covered with a sheet, placed on top of all the belongings in the back seat, all for his comfort, and I think he slept in it about 2 hours the whole way.
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Original plans to drive to Sioux Falls were scrapped as I decided I needed to make up the lost day (see original itinerary). Around dusk, I called my own personal navigator, Cindy, to look on the website www.petswelcome.com, and give me a list of phone numbers in Rapid City, and Wall, an hour closer. I called the Plains Motel in Wall, and asked for a very late check-in of 1:30. Keys were waiting for us in an envelope tied to the office door. Here's what Bob looked like after 515 miles and 11 hours of hard driving.
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