A Straight Line From Point A to Point B
It really is quite simple. You begin at place A; your destination is place B. A straight line, no detours. But what about the crooked path? You know, the one life, the universe, God, provides free of charge with extra bonuses and thrills thrown in just for being one of the first 100 callers. The shortest distance between two points may be a straight line; but in nature and life there are no straight lines.
We left the peaceful summer farm in high July heat and with corn up to our noggins. Ruby was loaded and ready--new oil, new oil filter, freshly washed and waxed. We planned out what was to be a less familiar route with more interesting scenery back to DC that would take us through Missouri, Kentucky, and southern Virginia. All went well and "as planned" the first two days. Saturday was looking good also. A much more leisurely drive through the very impressive southern Kentucky mountains on small winding roads up and down and around--a very pleasant crooked path.
We arrived in the ever so perfectly named HAZARD, Kentucky around 5, checked into a dumpy Days Inn, and then I got an idea--just outside of Hazard was a state resort on a huge lake with a lodge. A great place to have dinner. Bill was less enthusiastic, tired after a long drive and he just wanted to plop down on the bed and have his 5 o'clock beer. But he didn't say anything and deferred to the lady's wishes. The lodge--which turned out to be 20 miles away up a steep and winding mountain path--was really quite beautiful. No reservations needed at the restaurant.
See that path leading up to the lodge? It's steeper than it looks in the photo, but not all that crooked. Or is it?
We decided to walk up instead of drive on the road. About two thirds up there was a patch of pebbles and small roundish rocks. I took a step; lost traction on the pebbles; then heard and felt a hard thud followed instantly by a sharp CRACK, which of course, turned out to be my leg bones breaking. I heard myself screaming. People came rushing; ice placed on the swelling leg with the foot pointing in the completely wrong direction. A small crowd appeared on the lodge balcony. The park ranger arrived; asked many questions, interviewed witnesses. The ambulance arrived from Hazard 45 minutes later; then another 45 minutes back to the very small Hazard Hospital ER.
There's an orthopedic surgeon on call but it’s Saturday night and he doesn't feel like coming in until Sunday morning to do the surgery. One of the nurses says it's because he gets along with his wife. The other surgeon in town doesn't and will come in anytime, but he's not on call. Luck of the draw, I suppose.
With the cast in place, another night in the hospital and after two more long days on the road we arrived in DC on Wednesday, a week after leaving Iowa on our simple journey from Point A to Point B.