We are borrowing a picture from our past as we travel this time to Saskatchewan, Canada to hunt moose with the First Nation Indians. Most Struttin’ Time readers remember our trip out west a few years back with Carl. I know you remember that story, because you still mention it to me. Well, this is “Carl the follow up.”
All that has changed is the main players and their names. This time instead of one Carl it was two, and their names have been changed to Carl Jr. and Carl the third. Well Carl Jr. and Carl III were supposed to meet me at my house no later than 10:30 p.m. on September 26 to leave on our lifetime dream hunt for moose. The time came and went, with me sitting here with everything packed and neither Carl.
When the clock struck midnight I finally called. They had been delayed leaving because Carl wanted to wait to tell his wife bye when she got home from work. She is also the mother of Carl III. At one in the morning my phone rang and they told me they had missed the turnoff at the Mountain Parkway exit and would be delayed another thirty minutes. Now keep in mind, from their house to mine is a five-hour trip at the best, six hours at the worst. I thought, what has held them up for so long?
Finally, they pulled into my driveway at one-thirty in the morning. We threw their things into my truck and we were gone. My dream hunt, after years in the making, was on the road for what was supposed to be a 40-hour drive. I knew the “MapQuest” time was going to be off when we got to the first rest area on Interstate 64, between Lexington and Frankfort, and they needed to stop. But I pulled in after only an hour on the road. Carl Jr. headed to do whatever while Carl III had to smoke, as he wasn’t allowed to smoke in my Silverado. Smoking is such a nasty habit.
After a 45- minute stop we were off to the races again. I knew with stops like that, MapQuest was going to be far off on the prediction of a 40-hour drive. Next rest area, same story, different place, and we still had not left Kentucky. This time, both to the pit and one back out to smoke. We had lost over an hour and had not crossed the border yet into Indiana. I knew it was going to be a long trip.
We drove into the morning, not passing a rest area or truck stop along the way. With the delay in getting started and all the stops in between, we hit St. Louis in the heart of rush hour traffic. It is a mess anytime, and at rush hour it is murder. I didn’t have a clue as how long our trip would be, but I knew we needed to be at the hunting lodge by 4 p.m. on the 29th. Things looked bleak up to this point about us getting there of time until I realized their time was two hours behind ours. A sigh of relief came over me, knowing that if we didn’t get held up at the border trying to get our guns across we may still be in the game.
Next week, the story gets much more exciting as we go forward. Stay tuned.