The last total eclipse to be visible from the United States for the next 20 years was on April 8. Unfortunately to see the 100% totality, I had to leave my beloved Cyclone State. I originally perused a few options. A spot in Missouri. A spot in Illinois. A spot in Arkansas. A spot in Kentucky. I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do. Cause I knew that hotels in the areas were outrageous. I was considering driving to like the Quad Cities on the Sunday before the eclipse and then driving the rest of the way in the morning. Then driving back that night. Then the most magical thing happened. I had a trip just kinda fall into my lap.
The Gorshes are well-known eclipse fiends. They went to New Mexico for an eclipse last year. They were going this year. Travelling to Indiana to camp on Jen’s Aunt Linda’s land. They were going to drive all the way through on Sunday. Watch the eclipse on Monday. Then drive back to Illinois and stay in a hotel in Normal. Then drive back to Iowa on Tuesday. They graciously offered to let me 7th or 8th wheel it on their trip.
They were pulling a camper behind Derrick’s serial killer van* with 2 adults, 4 kids, and a dog. As roomy as the van was I elected to take the RAV4 to the Sycamore State cause for 1 person, I pack a lot of stuff. I think the offer was on the table for me to sleep in the camper as well, but I decided to pack a tent and an air mattress and sleep the way the pioneers did. In a tent. On a queen sized air mattress. With electricity for their CPAP, cause I still haven’t hit 3 months and I have to average over 4 hours a night for the old insurance company to kick in some ducats. Also electricity to charge their cell phone and listen to their sleepy time podcasts. Also electricity to charge their fitness watch. Those steps don’t count if they aren’t tracked! Some real old-timey pioneer stuff.
However, a couple days before we were set to leave, Jen texted me and let me know that I had been upgraded from the tent to Linda and Pete’s camper. With the only caveat being that it was still winterized, so there would be no running water. Me? An old-timey pioneer camper? I don’t need no stinking running water! I could brush my teeth in the rain. Or with the water in my Owala water bottle. Just like the pioneers did. And I had already planned on a whore’s bath for Monday anyways. You know. Pits and… well you know.
According to the Google maps, it is a nearly 8 hour drive from my domicile to Linda’s house in Gosport, Indiana.
I don’t want to brag, but we made it in a touch over 12 hours. That is without accounting for the time zone change.
I didn’t take many cell phone pictures on Day 1, but I took a few and here they are:
Stop 1. They also had a bathroom with running water, but in case you wanted the ambiance of a port-a-potty, “To The Right”. The capitalization of every word on this sign disturbs me and haunts my dreams.
Stop 2. This gas station was very serious about not letting backpacks in their store.
It was in Davenport.
And they brook no nonsense from kids.
I think they aren’t really sorry for the inconvenience. We stopped at virtually the last gas station in Iowa because it was very important to not buy gas in Illinois cause it is apparently very expensive there.
Stop 3 – Sweet insect exhibit at an Illinois rest area.
All rest areas should have giant rubber bugs. This is not open to debate.
Bug needs to work on his arms. Needing a condiment cup to hold himself up. Do you even lift bro?
I am such a sucker for taking pictures of where I am.
This rest are had a sweet lookout and somebody actually wrote a Joe Dirt quote on the railing.
Do sex drugs own the rock-n-roll? Is this person really into rock concerts sponsored by Viagra?
Stop 4 – Another Illinois rest area. I told you I’m a sucker for taking pictures like that.
This rest area was a dump. Just filthy. No urinals. The only positive was these cherry blossoms.
This thing was cool too. While there Harrison had a meltdown in the restroom because he refused to wash his hands. This standoff lasted like 10-15 minutes. I don’t blame him. It was a bathroom that was so dirty that your hands were probably dirtier after washing them. In retrospect, I should have just offered him some of my Bridgerton scented hand sanitizer. Perhaps Bridgerton Study. They have a light scent. Easy on the nose. I’ve never heard anybody claim they are way too strong and demand that I leave their immediate area, shortly after using one. That seemed like an oddly specific denial.
I’m not sure which stop this was. We stopped at a gas station in Crawfordsville. Then we stopped at a Steak ‘n Shake, also in Crawfordsville.
The Steak ‘n Shake had this weird thing. Weird to me, maybe some of you will look down your nose at me and call me a country bumpkin, but I had never seen it before. When you ordered (which by the way the only option to order was via kiosk – which super boo! Shouted this old man at the clouds.) Your receipt also printed out a QR Code. You had to scan this QR Code to use the pop machine. It only activated the pop machine for so long, so you better act fast AND it only worked like 3 times.
When we got out of the restaurant, Derrick’s van wouldn’t start. Neither us have jumper cables (I keep mine in the Camry) so I had to give him a ride to Home Depot to buy a set.
We got his van going and were on the road again. Willie Nelson would have been proud.
Turns out, Linda and Pete didn’t really live in Gosport. We drove through Gosport and then 10 miles more through 3 different towns before getting to their house.
They live closest to Paragon. But they have a Gosport mailing address because that is the only post office in 3 counties. Also, that is the toilet.
Layla teaching the boys the globalist lie.
When we pulled up to our home for the night Linda approached me and asked me if I played the lottery today. The answer is of course not. I don’t play the lottery. It is a self-imposed tax designed to move the tax burden from the wealthy to the poor, uneducated, and the just plain bad at math.
But what I said was, “No.”
She told me I should have because it was my lucky day. I had been upgraded to sleeping in the house, in the guest bedroom. Not only that, I would have my own bathroom. Suck on that whore’s bath! That might have been an unfortunate turn of phrase but no turning back now.
I got a bed, inside a house, with access to all the running water my heart could desire and all the electrical outlets a true pioneer man could use. I should have brought other things into charge, just cause I could. I should have just sat there flushing the toilet. Cause I could. Brushed my teeth 10-12 times. Cause I could.
But I didn’t. I eventually called it a night and drifted into a nice sleep listening to a Cyclone Fanatic podcast. Tomorrow was a big day after all.
*It isn’t really a serial killer van. It has too many windows. But I like to pretend.
