Travel

J. D. Carpenter’s American Odyssey

DAY 9 – DODGE CITY, KANSAS: This morning, Alan cooked up a pot of steel-cut oats and Devon made peanut butter toast. Later, we drove — Karen and I in our Jimmy, Alan and the boys in his Chevrolet truck — onto the property of Diamond Springs Ranch to an isolated location where Alan unblinkered the gyrfalcon he’s been training, placed it on the roof of his truck, and while he and the boys tossed a lacrosse ball back and forth, Karen and I admired the scenery (which included one of the most amazing birds we’ve ever seen: the scissor-tailed flycatcher). The gyrfalcon, meanwhile, slid down the windshield and onto the hood of Alan’s truck, hopped around a bit, and took off. Someone said, “There he goes!” and indeed he did — his maiden voyage. A minute or two later, after I had turned my attention to other things, I felt a whack on the back of my head as the gyrfalcon attacked my Toronto Maple Leafs ball cap, knocking it to the ground. Everyone’s a critic!

Too soon, it was time for Karen and I to resume our journey. We exchanged e-mail addresses with Alan and the boys, spoke briefly about how we all share the same basic concerns, no matter where we live, no matter what our culture. We shook hands, embraced briefly — shy again, as when we’d first met — and drove off into our futures. Thank you, Alan. Thank you, boys.

Partridge. Plevna. Sylvia. Stafford. Belpre. Kinsley. Offerle. A drive-past of towns.

Question: “So, Dave, have you had any car trouble so far on your trip?”

Answer: “Only once, when we stopped in Peabody, Kansas, and one of those rotating automatic car washes tried to eat our Jimmy.”

At Spearville, we drove through a vast assemblage of gigantic wind turbines (they’re weird, for sure — it’s like being in an episode of The Twilight Zone — but I’ll say this for them: they’re quiet), and arrived in Dodge City in time to visit Boot Hill and witness a shoot-out (re-enacted, of course) just off Wyatt Earp Boulevard.

© 2007 Defining Canada.