Road Trip
Sadly today’s young people will probably never know the romantic draw of a name on a map. Some names just beg you to travel to that dot on the map and discover what secrets will unfold. Boulder, CO held its mysteries close but called to me even as a teenager. When I had the opportunity I packed all my possessions in my minty green Mustang and headed west. I had no promise of a job and knew no one who lived in Boulder. Didn’t matter….had to go there and I was not disappointed as I discovered the Boulderado, McGuckin’s, mountains, The Hill, hippy sandals, Boulder Creek, Pearl Street, The Bus Stop (not that I went there),Chautauqua, and the Boulder Book Store. Found a job nearby, made friends, and stayed for thirty years.
As a child Thanksgiving usually involved a road trip, usually icy. About every other year, my parents would pack my sister and I into whatever second hand vehicle we had at the moment to drive north to Duluth, MN from Fremont, NB. The names Storm Lake, Worthington, Windom, St. James, and Mankato still bring back memories of driving during dark snowing nights. The names have a certain sweet poetry about them. Cannot remember the towns themselves, just their promise as we passed through that we were getting closer to a warm house with relatives and a Thanksgiving feast.
The wildest Thanksgiving trip though was not north, but east to Des Moines, IA. I don’t think my sister was with me but I think my grandmother was with as we visited one of her cousins, Hazel Baker Ragsdale, for Thanksgiving dinner. We drove through white out blizzard conditions on black ice all the way there. Very tense. Des Moines hadn’t been calling out to me in the past and since that trip, has fallen completely off my map.
On a trip back from Duluth to Boulder my sister and I became bored driving through the prairies of western Minnesota and eastern South Dakota so begin making a list of all the towns with a color in their name. A partial list includes: Vermillion, Gold Hill, Sundance, White Clay, Redfield, Blue Earth, Black Duck, Black Hawk, Blue River, Grey Eagle, and Butterfield. Who wouldn’t want to visit a town with one of those colorful names. Had evening meal in Gold Hill and Sundance, shopped in Black Hawk and White Clay, and I think I need to visit Black Duck and Blue Earth.
Other names have a certain panache that entices you to visit: Saddlestring (fictional but should be a real town), Chugwater, Sleepy Eye, and No Name. But alas, today you pick a destination because of friends, relatives, or business; turn on your GPS and listen to your guide say turn right, turn left, stay right, and recalculating, as you speed along the interstate and main roads, missing all those wonderful names and places that are dots on maps…places of hidden treasures and curious things and interesting people.
