Day 3: Build an Ark
There, on the right. A brilliant arc of white violence flashed to the ground. And on the left, another leapt into being. Above in the gloom, muted flashes betrayed the presence of others, kept aloft.
We sped westward from Williamsburg toward Des Moines, betting on catching a narrow break in the storm front where the rains would be heavy, but hopefully not biblical. The rain fell harder, mixing with road spray and making the air a veritable sauce.
More lightning, and raining harder still. Jack in the lead, probably thinking nothing of it, and me as the rear guard, calculating the risk of abandoning Faraday at such a critical juncture, and building a small shithouse with newly laid bricks - but enjoying the hell out of it at the same time.
The animals fell just short of pairing up, but cars and trucks were vying for position on the edge of the highway, hazards flashing, victims of their own windshields and futile wipers.
We pressed on and broke free in about an hour, and I smiled at the warmth of the sun - my gloves failed the waterproof test miserably, and I was sitting in a puddle of water a half inch deep. But it still beats a day at the office.
The lakes of Des Moines are beautiful this time of year, until you realize they're supposed to be crops. Flat lands make for poor drainage, and few if any of the fields are planted - torrents of muddy water abound. Veggies will be 'spensive this year.
Nebraska was a blur of, well, Nebraska, and we broke off I-80 at Kearney and ran through Kansas on 383, a pleasure cruise of long sweeping curves, little to no traffic, light winds, and a beautiful blue sky. Crop dusters were circling and swooping like birds of prey throughout the state, and we managed to avoid all but one overspray.
Kansas has become a corn state like the rest - all the better to make ethanol. Dairy cows and feed lots made up the majority of the "wild life", save for one small herd of mule deer at the roadside. Also conspicuously missing, yet not missed? The delays of Subarus...
We've come to light in Colby, Kansas, a map dot crossroads with a community college specializing in agriculture. Population - 3,000 corn-fed souls. Colorado is a short drive away, and the weather looks good. The 2019 Prefrontal Tour is on.
Onward and upward!
We sped westward from Williamsburg toward Des Moines, betting on catching a narrow break in the storm front where the rains would be heavy, but hopefully not biblical. The rain fell harder, mixing with road spray and making the air a veritable sauce.
More lightning, and raining harder still. Jack in the lead, probably thinking nothing of it, and me as the rear guard, calculating the risk of abandoning Faraday at such a critical juncture, and building a small shithouse with newly laid bricks - but enjoying the hell out of it at the same time.
The animals fell just short of pairing up, but cars and trucks were vying for position on the edge of the highway, hazards flashing, victims of their own windshields and futile wipers.
We pressed on and broke free in about an hour, and I smiled at the warmth of the sun - my gloves failed the waterproof test miserably, and I was sitting in a puddle of water a half inch deep. But it still beats a day at the office.
The lakes of Des Moines are beautiful this time of year, until you realize they're supposed to be crops. Flat lands make for poor drainage, and few if any of the fields are planted - torrents of muddy water abound. Veggies will be 'spensive this year.
Nebraska was a blur of, well, Nebraska, and we broke off I-80 at Kearney and ran through Kansas on 383, a pleasure cruise of long sweeping curves, little to no traffic, light winds, and a beautiful blue sky. Crop dusters were circling and swooping like birds of prey throughout the state, and we managed to avoid all but one overspray.
Kansas has become a corn state like the rest - all the better to make ethanol. Dairy cows and feed lots made up the majority of the "wild life", save for one small herd of mule deer at the roadside. Also conspicuously missing, yet not missed? The delays of Subarus...
We've come to light in Colby, Kansas, a map dot crossroads with a community college specializing in agriculture. Population - 3,000 corn-fed souls. Colorado is a short drive away, and the weather looks good. The 2019 Prefrontal Tour is on.
Onward and upward!
