Stories from the road to Austin PART: 2

About fifty miles east of the Texas border there is a town, hardly wider then the freeway which passes over it, marked at the beginning and it`s end by a church; where, down a winding First Penticostle Rd. the Richleys quite comfortably reside.

Billie and Glen have lived a charmed life and now, climbing through thier seventies, they collect eagles, and eagerly await a surprise visit from thier constantly travelling grandaughter Jess; whom, living and travelling in her Van, had reached the city of New Orleans from which we had recently departed.

The night, infact, before we left ol NOLA, Jess sat with Sam and I over some bourbon during the midst of an underwhelming party to share with us the details of Louisiana`s roads and the address of her grandparents: one Billie and Glen Richley.

`they would for sure love you guys``

Easy enough to believe.

So four days, two flat tires, and a couple hundred bourbonless miles later, it was exactly that conversation that I was perhaps most greatful for. For after evading a tornado warning during nightfall,we arrived into one of the most comforting environments a human being could in good logic ask for.

Glen was an electrical engineer who did some work over in Canada and told stories of good ol foolhearty pranks in a power station in the Utica Valley of New York State which renered half the county lightless.

He built his house with his hands and continues to make improvements including his most recent addition; a treehouse for his youngest grandchildren.

It was a good night to have shelter and we slept under a tin roof in the unfinished portion of the attic, where, loud as it dared the rain kept us awake.

They exchanged mailing address`with us and made us promise to write them postcards when we got to California. They also told us if we saw Jess again to tell her not to travel into Mexico, they heard it was dangerous.

0700 Hrs. The sun was making
its first appearance over the
 tall Jackpines and rain fell
 softly on the forest floor...

We were barley east of the
Texas Boarder. Bog
Country
was far behind us
and the forest

was dark and

 silent reminding

 me of Algonquin

 park back

home in Ontario.

I thought about how Glen

 had said he had laid ever

nail in this house and what

that meant.

When we had arrived, they had a meal prepared and I ate beef for the first time in months; a hot shower went over like a second dessert and we  

were asleep before

midnight.

Sam slept, he rarley woke up when we needed too, not that I was in any condition to complain,

 I got up and took the laundry out

 of the dryer, checked the

weather.

The tornado watch had past,

the storm had blown east of

here and it was rainy and a 

little chilly but altogether

 to our liking.

Glen gave usa a Texas travel map and we marked

our route, the closest spot to camp being sixty

miles west of Jasper Texas, we had a 100

mile day ahead of us.

Glen made Bacon and eggs- a treat for him as much as for us- a deviation from the regular heart healthy diet.

Time to go time to go...Though I knew we would be slow, Sam went back to sleep and I followed suit...

 0900 Hrs.                                                               

It was still raining, Glen said he was willing to    

 drive us a few miles and I accepted in order to

equalise our slumber time.

Pick up, time to go time to go...