Traveling Exploits: Like a Limestone Cowboy Thursday, March 29, 2007Posted by Suss-- in suss, Suss Travels More Than You.
As most denizens of the Hoosier State are well aware, Southern Indiana is known for its vast deposits of
sadness limestone. As I drove down I saw the limestone carved from the hills. And while the surroundings are rather beautiful, my hotel view ain’t. Neither is the hotel — just another Holiday Inn Express. You’d think they could just carve the entire hotel out of one piece of limestone. Not just walls and floors: phones, remote controls, room keys, everything. Well, except for toilet paper.
Before I delve into my glorious scenery, let’s revisit the view I had from my hotel room in Miami:
For the visually inept: That was a golf course. Right outside my room. Now onto our view from my room in Bedford, Indiana:
Squint your eyes. Look, an Arby’s!
Bedford, in all fairness, is a pleasant little town, especially if you like towns whose population of churches outnumber their restaurants. According to the Wikipedia page, famous residents include the tip of Marty McSorley’s hockey stick as well as NASA astronaut Ken Bowersox, named after Boston’s AAA baseball team.
I saw neither of them during my stay in Bedford. But I will tell ya what I saw: motorcycles. And buttloads of ’em.
As I sat in the Bedford laundromat on a Sunday afternoon — someone remind me to write a future installment on the smalltown laundromat experience, will ya? — it was noticeably the first summery day of the year (85 degrees). And all the middle aged dudes and their biker wives were putt-putt-putt-puttering down the 30-mph streets.
It’s not that the bikers are all between 40 and 50 years of age. Or that many of them are the typical bald-and-goatee variety. Or that many of them have ugly wives1. Or that they weren’t wearing helmets. Or that the engines are loud and annoying. Or that, despite their stature, require an entire parking space and road lane. It’s … no, wait, it is all of the above.
Personally the Hyundai Sonata works just fine for me. It may not be sexy, but if I hit a farm animal, I won’t die. It will. And plus, it’s a rental. But since I’m in Bedford, it’s not as likely that I’d smash into a cow so much as, say, a church.
1 – Remember, children, that stereotypes come from ignorance. Do stereotype at home. We’re professionals!