So I happily drove down to meet the Spitfire girl in West Des Moines. I listened to a mystery on tape, interspersed with Al Stewart's new cd "Beach Full of Shells." On the way I notice all the Minnesota Rest stops are closed for no apparent reason, this is not good since I tend to stop at them to stretch my legs, or more importantly keep my ankle from stiffening, there are also no state patrols. Once I reach Iowa there are open rest areas, and tons of state patrol. I counted 8 in a one mile stretch!
I watched an immature deer effortlessly leap a fence twice his hight and saunter toward the highway, I yelled "NO" at him, I doubt he heard but he did stop and freeze, so I did not have to live through my deer hitting fear. I have already hit a low flying goose in the rain which was rather surreal and unpleasant.
The first Iowa rest stop was strange. Shaped like a barn, with a film crew and some nice shiny state patrol men and their cars. There were also objects at regular intervals that might have been lights but looked more like the heads of a missile, I took pictures of course.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment