Thursday January 10, 2019

Southern Spontaneity

    Jerry and Marion planned to go south for a few months after New Years to go work on their boat sitting in a marina in Indiantown, Florida. There was a little periodic maintenance to do on it as is usual for a steel sailboat.

    After briefly helping Jerry load his equipment trailer one cold January day and seeing how winded the effort left him, I volunteered to help them drive to Florida and get things set up. Knowing what he intended to do on his boat and imagining some of what that entailed, I figured I could save the two of them some steps and get things carried aboard and set up as needed. If there was time, I could maybe grind off the loose paint on the deck to get it ready for painting too.

    Even though I had offered, I was surprised he took me up on it as usually he is so fiercely independent. Even Marion, his wife of fifty years, was shocked. I was equally so when he told me that they were leaving in the next couple hours. Suddenly I had to pack for a 2000 mile road trip beginning that very day of January 2.

   My wife Jackie was totally supportive and enthusiastic about me going with Jerry and Marion to help them out, and was happy I was going to see some new country, although my length of absence was not immediately determined. 

    After some last minute preparation and errands, she drove me the mile south to Jerry & Marion's to begin my journey. 

    We left Palmville at 3:30 PM, driving a 2013 GMC Tahoe truck pulling a single-axle equipment trailer. It was a cold 20-some degrees above zero with six inches of snow all around. Soon it would be but a memory, I thought.

    I had packed for two climate zones, the Arctic and the Equator, trying to keep my baggage to a bare minimum for either pole. I knew I'd be flying home and wanted to limit my carry-ons to just the clothes I would be wearing, my camera and my toiletries bag. Anything else, Jerry & Marion could truck home with them when they came in April.

    Although I knew the drill, a natural sense of trepidation entered in as we rolled over their little steel bridge over Mikinaak Creek and headed north to go far south. It could've been the fact that the Jimmy had 340,000 miles on it and a leaking differential that had to be topped up periodically, or it may have been the fact it had no air conditioning, or that the steering was so sloppy it was a constant mission to keep it centered in the lane so when the passenger-side wheels hit the rumble strip along the shoulder on occasion it snapped me out of my complacency. But it had been well-maintained almost all its life, did have new tires, a sunroof, and working side windows--plus Jerry had all kinds of tools along including two welders. Roadside repairs would be but a moment of our time. Despite his assurance he had a cross-handle lug wrench, I did suggest we take the battery-powered impact too, which was loaded at the last minute.

   I was officially the back-up driver, but as time would attest, Jerry the full-time driver, as the support the steering wheel gave him was better for his back. Seventy-five miles from home at the Seven Clans Casino, Jerry drove into the parking lot to do a visual on the differential. Chuckling about my look of dread, he launched into a story about the time when Jack Davidson, Charlie Vistad and him started on a trip to New Orleans to the boat, driving his 1973 Ford pickup that had been sitting idle in the yard all summer. Stopping for fuel, he checked the oil, to discover none on the stick. He had to add three quarts--and then a quart every hundred miles thereafter

After two restful stops to visit Marion's brother in Yorkville, Illinois and her cousin, in Gainesville, Florida, here it is January 10th and we have yet to arrive at our destination. Only 200 miles to go. I'll keep you posted.