I hate Missouri rumble strips.
See, when driving Ernie I tend to err toward the outside of the lane. I know I’ve gone too far when I cross the solid line and hit the rumble strips on the shoulder. The Wizards of Smart at MODOT, however, put theirs on the solid line, which means that Ernie and I sound like a rolling kazoo.
Now that I have that off my chest, today’s drive was pretty ordinary, save a long (for us) start — three straight hours, farther than I like to stretch the beginning of a run. The benefit was that we put almost two-thirds of our Thursday behind us in one big chunk. We made only one more stop, for diesel and gas, then knocked back the last 60 miles to our campground.
We arrived just after 1pm.
Our hosts and the staff were glad to see us, knowing exactly why we’re thrilled to finally be here. We set up Ernie for an extended stay and collapsed onto the couches.
That marked the first moment in many weeks that we could truly slump. For now there’s nothing to be lifted or moved, nothing needing to be stored or repaired, no appointments to keep and no to-dos to be checked off a list.
Second Chance Ranch is “in contract.” If all goes well (and there are no guarantees) the sale will close less than a month from now.
At last, Deb and I can breathe a little.
Most important, as soon as we crossed the Arkansas border we knew that this time we’re not here for a visit — this is Home.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.