I-70 is endless as only an interstate can be. Passing truckers slowly, I try to sleep, I try to write, I try to work – all sorts of things are only half-accomplished as Heather pushes the Saturn homeward. No matter how long an actual wandering is, it always seems we’re away from home for the same length of time. I feel just as eager to be getting back to Maryland now as on the way back from Illinois last year, after we’d been out for some 11 weeks. On the other hand, just as I was ready to head out again almost immediately, I’m eagerly planning our next outing and writing emails in the car and planning out our Lives in North Carolina , and in Connecticut, and even our next visit out here.
The Indiana wildlife is smarter than our own. Whereas in Maryland and Pennsylvania we could’ve eaten like kings from the roadkill we’d passed (if we were into that sort of thing), Illinois and Indiana beasts seem to have mastered the art of Living near such asphalt intrusions, and the only roadside casualties are stripped tires, cigarette butts and old sneakers.
And one rusted red Chevy hatchback with shattered windows.
Insane rain of dooooom!
Yesterday, the storms were insane, driving us right along in their heart. We could see a band of sunlight to the South of us, but we are inevitable confined to the I-70 corridor, and for as much as heather would Love to pull the wheel to the right and send us careening over this interminable farmland to the sunshine on the horizon, we’ll never get home by head towards the light. Ironic, isn’t it? Today the world seems untouched by the passage of the rains, and Indiana is dry and hot as ever, glaring back at us with an almost angry ferocity. The vast, broad, flat belly of the country simply skims us along its surface as we cut towards California for the evening.. We’d been thinking about stopping in Columbus , OH , but since we woke up kind of late, I think that plan is most likely off the slate for today. We’ll just pull into Jozart, eat some left-over Mexican food from yesterday’s dinner,and watch a movie or something.
Twrr.
Suddenly, the only light is coming from a thin band of sunlight to the South and the clouds are mounting to our left and quckly our immediate future is looking a little bit bleak. My fearsome road-warrior Saturn has yet to be mounted with James Bond contraptions like pontoons and grappling hooks, which is unfortunate, as it looks like we’re about to be hammered. I love thunderstorms, but prefer them from inside really solid structures sans the potential intrusion of nearby 18-wheelers. As the light gets cut off by the shifting clouds, we’re listening to the weather on the radio and I think the thunderstorm that’s stalking us is probably one of the “a few severe”.
Led Zepplin and lightning. The blinkers on all the trucks go on and the rain comes down and now there’s a band of sunlight to the North. If we’re lucky, this storm will be a swift one. —- Holy shit! Hail! A fierce storm of Biblical proportions. Almost. We feared for the car for a little bit – I think there’s little else quite as frightening as a hail storm while you’re on the road. Every impact sounds like a gunshot and you’re sure that you’re going to see cracks in your windshield at any moment. At that moment, I was very, very glad we didn’t have a road pet as the poor beast would’ve bitten and pooped in every direction and left us bleeding and soiled.
In any case, well out of that now, listening to Ronnie the Blitz DJ on the radio as we pass Columbus. It’s kind of cool being able to put a face to the voice. Glad to leave Armageddon in the rear-view mirror.
