T-Hoeing The Line

Wednesday became my errand day this week. I didn't have to make a bank trip, what with shuffling on-hand money and writing out checks for taxes and six months of health insurance for The Pony and myself. 

 

I needed to cash in The Pony's $100 scratcher winner, then drop off the insurance checks over at Lower Basementia. From there it was off to the main post office, to mail Genius's letter and the taxes. No matter that the post office was closed for Veteran's Day. They will go out with the Thursday 11:00 a.m. mail, same as if I'd mailed them on a normal Wednesday afternoon. Then on to the Sis-Town Casey's for T-Hoe's gas. A stop by the insurance office run by a former high school colleague who was a football star, not a valedictorian. And THEN I could pick up lunch for me and The Pony at Burger King. 

So many stops. I warned The Pony when I left home shortly before 1:00, that it might take me a while to get back home with his lupper (lunch/supper). Don't you worry about Farmer H. He was having leftover spaghetti and garlic toast.

Little did I know HOW long this errand trip was going to take. 

After hearing an uncharacteristic rant from the Man Owner at the Gas Station Chicken Store (more on this another day), I headed out past the dead-mouse-smelling post office to the lake road. It's a shortcut of sorts, to get me to the School-Turn Casey's (couple of scratchers), and the turn to go to Lower Basementia. I used to take this road all the time. Still do, if I'm going to that side of town for the main post office. I noticed last week that they also blacktopped the surface of the road.

Well. On Wednesday, they were putting on the yellow center stripes. The yellow that signifies NO PASSING on that curvy two-lane road. I had just crossed over a little railroad bridge, just far enough out of civilization that there was nowhere to turn around, when I came upon the convoy. When the hills and curves were just right, I could see THREE highway trucks, with orange diamond road signs proclaiming something I couldn't read mounted on the back, and flashing rows of lights. 

 

In between and behind the trucks, I'd say there were eight cars. At least another eight cars backed up behind T-Hoe, as we traveled at 5 miles per hour. It looked like the front highway truck was the only one spraying. Or maybe the first two. I don't know if they can spray a double line, or if two trucks did a single line. The last one, I think, was there as a buffer in case a careless driver rear-ended them.

Sweet Gummi Mary! I think it took 25 minutes to traverse the section that would have otherwise taken three minutes!

When we reached civilization, just past the gun club field, I took a picture. A few cars in front of me had taken a chance, and passed the convoy when the lead truck stopped and the driver got out and walked around. I guess it would have broken his arm to signal us waiters that it was safe to pass...

 

I would have blanked out the license plate of that truck ahead of me, but since he found it necessary to roll through a stop sign next to the dead-mouse-smelling post office so he could speed ahead of me... I did not. I found it quite satisfying that I was behind him for so long, and hoped he could read my lips while running off the road as he looked in his mirror. 

While sitting on the bridge, I tried to get you a picture of what's left of the river, but that dang convoy decided to move again before I could zoom in for a better pic.

At least that view might let you feel like you were riding in T-Hoe with me!

The Pony and I finally had our lunch back home at 3:10. I'm sure he was starving.