Friday wasn't the drag I expected it to be, and I was grateful for that. The Delta Green session went really well, with a new player joining us and a lost lamb returning to the fold.
Sunday, some X-Wing matches with Ken, and those were games to remember. I won both matches, and beating Ken once is rare enough; two consecutive matches? The Force was definitely with me.
Monday morning, I dropped off my ballot, and then my contingency plan activated when Dad texted me to cancel out on going to Missouri. He was suffering from a spike in his chronic back pain and didn't feel up to the trip. I had halfway expected this, and had decided that I would not spend my first week off in a couple of years sitting around the house. I made a few notes, filled up the Canyon's tank, withdrew some traveling money, and spent the afternoon reading and resting up for the trip.
Tuesday morning rolled around. I reserved a room at one of the Gateway Center's hotels and around noon I put my bags in the cab and struck out, westward on I-64. I think it had been eight years since I had been any further west on that road than New Albany and the I-265 interchange, and I prepared for a long haul across pleasant but kind of boring terrain. I had loaded the iPhone with days' worth of podcasts, and episodes of Astonishing Legends kept me going. The drive was hampered by intermittent rain, varying from heavy mists to real downpours, but the truck is surefooted and I travel with the blessings of the Rockatansky, and all was well. The Canyon's inline-5 is a strong engine, but thirsty, and I kept watchful eyes on the clock, the fuel gauge, and the highway signs counting down the miles to St. Louis. We ate up mile after mile, mostly at a comfortable 75 miles-per, but sometimes you have to pass someone and you don't want to be the one camping in the left lane at one mile per hour faster than the other guy, so the truck happily sped up to 85 or better long enough to get around and comfortably ahead of slower traffic. I made it to Collinsville a little before 4PM local time, checked into my room, and took a little nap. Takeout from Bandana's Barbecue and the first game of this wreck of a season's World Series, and I went to bed well fed and happy.
Still on Eastern time, I woke up early and drove to a Casey's General Store to refuel. Gasoline for the GMC, donuts and chocolate milk (shut up I am an adult and chocolate milk is delicious) for me. Back to the motel, some reading and a touch of writing, then I checked out and headed on into St. Louis. Rolling westward into the Gateway to the West with cloud-dimmed sun behind and grey sky ahead is, frankly, a pretty sight. The Arch dominates the view with its eldritch angle, and the city's towers rise up behind. The elevated highways carry you across the great Mississippi River and into and over the city. Traffic is heavy, and moves fast, and the the voice of the GPS interrupts today's podcasts to direct me to my first - and primary - stop of the day: The National Museum of Transportation.
I was there for the trains, and gave only quick looks at the other exhibits. It was a cool rainy weekday morning, and there weren't many other visitors at the time. Freight and passenger cars of every stripe. Steam and diesel and electric locomotives, some of them the only surviving examples of their kind. A Decapod, one of hundreds ordered by Imperial Russia, but undeliverable after the Revolution. An SD45, with its flared radiators and twenty-cylinder engine. The gorgeous Art Deco Zephyr next to a workaday switch engine. A Y6 Mallet, its coal-dragging days long gone, coupled to an Army diesel built for service during and after a war that never happened. Examples of Union Pacific super power from two generations - a Big Boy steam loco and an EMD DDA40X - sitting side-by-side. A C&O Kanawha, among other samples of the last great designs of steam power. Early diesels parked near the machines they replaced. I took few pictures, but spent a while chatting with a museum volunteer, an elderly fellow with a love for the machines under his watch. We talked about trains, of course, but also history and cars. For a little while on a rainy October morning, the two of us had a new friend.
I left the museum after a few hours, heading to my second stop - Miniature Market's retail store. Only a few minutes from the museum, it's a very nice shop, well-stocked and full of display shelves showing off dioramas and exquisitely-painted minis. I picked up a few things, paid, and was soon on my way to see an old GenCon buddy over in Metropolis, Illinois.
I had planned on at least one more stop in STL, the aquarium built in the old Union Station, but scratched it when Dave messaged me. I'll go back sometime; this was a lucky alignment of schedules and I wasn't going to ignore it. I made good time across 64 and down 57 - the truck does like to run - and got to spend a couple of hours chatting and catching up with my friend. I wanted to see one more person across the river in Paducah, but his work schedule wasn't in our favor.
So, back on the road. The Ohio River is much broader at Paducah than here in Louisville. The barge traffic I'm used to seeing isn't restricted by the McAlpin Locks, so tows are more spread out, and there seemed to be a few half-sunken or grounded hulls. There are probably stories there, but they aren't something I wanted to give much thought to while traversing a new-to-me road. One more refueling east of Paducah, and then it was back onto the highway.
I am far more familiar with the eastern part of Kentucky than I am with the Commonwealth's western end. I know where some of the larger towns are relative to one another, but of course, the map is not the territory. Interstate 24 took me part of the way east, then it was on to the road that that I know as the Western Kentucky Parkway, but is now signed as part of Interstate 69. By now, sunset was getting close, and I still had nearly two hundred miles to go before spending the night at Mom&Dad's. Traffic was light, and I decided to take a little risk in the interest of saving time, setting the cruise at a little better than 85. I blew past places I knew as a teenager - Leitchfield, Morgantown - and the interchange with a new spur, Interstate 165. Soon enough, and not soon enough, I made it to Elizabethtown and the end of fast four-lane roads, but the beginning of familiar territory. Through Hodgenville and Campbellsville, a drive-thru meal from Long John Silver's, and onto Kentucky 70 and to the farm. The Doberman was happy to see me, if maybe more interested in the smells of fried fish and Dave's dog than in me personally. Gods, I slept well that night.
Thursday morning, I took the Canyon's key off my chain and put the Mariner's back on. Helped Mom&Dad with some tasks, then it was time to head on back to Louisville. I stopped by a car audio shop in Beuchel with the intent of pricing a new deck, but the shop had just what I was looking for and time to install it, so I settled in for a while. After a chat about lightsabers with the installer, it was, at last, time to get back to Cannons Lane.
I am so glad I took this trip. I had good talks with strangers and a better one with an old friend. The podcasts kept me from getting deeply into my head on those long stretches of highway. Despite my pledge of no more model locomotives, the museum visit convinced me that I need a steam locomotive and a Union Pacific diesel in the roster. I have my cute-ute back - and Dad is going to sell me the Canyon once we take care of some work on it - and the troublesome factory deck has been replaced. Tonight, I'm running the 15th DG session of the campaign, closing in on the 20th and final stage of investigations. Tomorrow, going to Frankfort for an afternoon of Armada.
And Halloween is next weekend!
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