The Little Darlin’/Roxanna Firehall Football Jamboree, Part 4
Leaving the Roaring Asphalt Campground and the defeated St. Louis Rams behind us, Little Darlin’ and I headed back east towards Dayton. As usual, LD took the first shift and lead us through Illinois. Mysteriously, all of the crossovers and tight construction zones I encountered on the way out were cleaned up for the most part, and LD sailed through the Land of Lincoln.
I drew the Indiana leg. The road was not any smoother than on the trip out. The rough ride seemed to have shortened our tempers a bit. LD was navigating (not her best skill) and insisted I move from the middle lane to the right. I complied even though she had previously advised that the middle lane was best. We then had a short, intense discussion as to why this mildly urgent move was necessary in Indianapolis traffic. The discussion yielded no cogent answer. After apologizing several times in the face of my harumphs, LD tells me just move back to the center lane and I’ll shut up. I complied knowing she would not.
By far, I 70 in eastern Indiana (Bruised Kidney Highway) is much worse than the western section. I got so bad that I swear, at times, LD and I looked like bobble-head dolls riding a paint shaker. We entered Ohio looking for a kidney donor.
Well, we got to Dayton safe and sound (and sore), staying closer to civilization and out of the corn maze we endured on the trip out. Tomorrow we go to Canton; Hall of Fame day is Wednesday.
Rainy Days and Tuesdays. Day 7
We left the Tall Timbers campground (a nice change from the blighted “park” in St. Louis) heading for Canton, the home of the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Little Darlin’ and I are really excited about visiting the Hall for the first time. We were less excited that the rain started as we left. The rain soon became moderately heavy and we sloshed our way up I 270 and onto I 71.
Unfortunately, the passenger’s side windshield wiper decided to roll over and die. Fortunately, it died jusr two miles from a rest area. LD pulled the RV into a truck space and I commenced to get wet. I had some experience with this malady as the Behemoth already pulled this one on me outside Nashville in August. Obviously, my repair was not permanent, and the new wiper flopped over as it had before. I repositioned the wiper, reinforced it with several strips of duct tape and off we went. As we pulled back onto the highway, I wondered how humanity survived before the invention of duct tape.
Shortly thereafter, we stopped for gas and to switch drivers. I drove off into the rain winding through the verdant Ohio countryside, through the trucks, jerks and the steady rain. As we went along, LD says be careful, that truck is coming off the ramp. I say thanks, but you woke me up. LD says that’s not funny. Yes it is, I chuckled. No it’s not. Yes it is. NO, it’s not. I told her honey, it IS funny and I am WAY funnier than you think I am.
Anyway, we made it to Canton. It’s raining harder now. It’s rained all night;
I feel like Noah.
Ah, no worries. Tomorrow we get back to football. The Hall of Fame. Lambert, Greene, Harris, Bradshaw, Noll all the others. Sweeeeeeeet.
I once rode a bicycle from Meyersdale, PA to the Anteitam National Battlefield in MD, which is around 100 miles, with one tire lined with duct tape. It developed a crack, and we had a new inner tube but not a tire. Bike shops were few and far between back then. Incredible…