The End of the Road

Continued from yesterday's blog "Road Trip"

We came to the end of the very muddy, rutted, almost impassable road, that had clearly been marked "CLOSED."  I quietly breathed a sigh of relief (appropriate cliche in this case.)  I really did not want to get stuck in the middle of nowhere with 4 people over the age of 70, on a road that we were not supposed to be on in the first place, and have to call a tow truck or worse.

But when we got to the end of that road and got closer to the Road Closed sign facing the other way, it was not a relief at all.  The sign was mounted on 4 metal posts that were firmly dug into the ground, spaced across the road, and rope was tied between them.  On either side, a deep muddy ditch.  No apparent way out

But did that stop the old folks?  No, it did not.  Donna and my parents hopped out and immediately proceeded to figure out how to disassemble the road block. 

Now, I'm just not a person who goes around in broad daylight flaunting the law or even road signs.  But, it appears that is not a trait I inherited from my parents.

In no time at all my parents and Donna had the rope down and were trying to figure out which space between the metal posts was wide enough to let the cars through.

First they tried to get through the spot between the sign and the post Donna is holding.

But one of the front tires of the van got into the deep rut and after that we determined that the van couldn't fit through that spot anyway.

Next we tried a spot on the other side of the sign, also too small.  Finally we got the van through the space between two metal posts on the far right.  SUCCESS. 

Now just the Alero left to get out.

Now I was able to really breathe that sigh.  Whew.  Donna tied that rope back up, no one was the wiser (until now) and off we went to Bernadotte.

Here's where we ate lunch.  It's one of those small town diners where the food is awesome and none of it is healthy.  They don't have hummus on the menu.  I was planning to have a tenderloin sandwich that I hoped would be bigger than my head and singlehandedly raise my cholesterol 20 points.  But they were out of tenderloin!  O!  Heartache!  Fortunately the special was a braised pork chop, mashed potatoes and gravy, and either applesauce or cole slaw.  So, I get half my wish, the cholesterol part.

After lunch we drove up to the Bernadotte cemetery. Bernadotte is on the Spoon River and my grandmother used to say that the people who inspired Edgar Lee Masters anthology are buried there. The cemetery is small and many of the markers are falling over. It looks, somehow, just right for the place where it lives.

Here they are, the queen troublemakers.  Making mischief together since 1947!

It was a memorable day in every way.