Readers of this blog will know I’ve been fully vaccinated since April. With that in mind, and with seven weeks of vacation banked with my employer, I’ve been undertaking several recent jaunts. Dan has been along for some of them, including a weekender in Covington, Kentucky – a friendly town across the river from Cincinnati with a charming Main Street district.
Dan was not
able to join me on my latest trip, during which I planned to venture to Santa
Fe with a stop at the recently reopened Four Corners monument. Unfortunately, the trip did not go as planned
and I abandoned the trip in Missouri.
Things
began to go wrong in Michigan, from which much of my family hailed. Some planned genealogical research didn’t pan
out and I wound up redeeming that leg of the trip by visiting the Henry Ford
museum in Dearborn.
After overnighting in Toledo, I headed for the second destination, St. Louis. I remember a conversation with a customer over a dozen years ago when I was a call center representative. He was from Missouri, and I mentioned I had heard the state pronounced as both “Miz-oor-EE” and “Miz-oor-AH”. He quipped that most locals pronounced it as “MIZ-er-ee” (i.e., “Misery”) and having visited there, I now understand why. There’s a certain oppressive quality of the area that I often encounter in Southern cities (and don’t fool yourself, Missouri IS the South).
I planned
on visiting the recently reopened Harry Truman Library in Independence the
next morning, but found it was sold out through the next four days. At that point, I faced a choice, I could head
to Oklahoma City for the next leg of my trip, or abandon the journey and head
home. I decided to cut my losses. The main deciding factor was not the
situation at the Truman Library, but the spreading Delta
variant. Although vaccinated,
I could inadvertently pick up the strain and unknowingly spread it to
others.
On the way
back, I headed across the Mississippi River from St. Louis and stopped at the Cahokia
mounds, all that remains of an ancient Native American city which hosted
a population of as many as 40,000.
Heading
east on I-70, I ran into some severe weather which
made driving enervating and hazardous – so I diverted to US-40,
which ran roughly parallel to the Interstate.
It was a sweeter ride but by the time I reached Ohio, I was worn out and
decided to overnight in Brookville.
The following morning, I decided to avoid the interstate altogether and took US-40 to US-42, which took me to Snow Road, which became Rockside Road, and it was just a few turns from there and I was home.
I made use
of the rest of my time off by finishing a few small household projects.
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