When we woke, we found that a small group that was bicycling from Florida to the state of Washington, across the United States, diagonally. The empty site we had claimed was theirs and after apologies and explanations, we shared the tables and conversations. While waiting for breakfast, many climbed several table tops and watched snakes of fog, coil in the vales. The fog muted and allowed the colors to appear. We hurried through breakfast, breaking camp, and loading the vans because there would be a long day on the road.
Everyone was told to make themselves comfortable, because we were going to have longer episodes of driving without many breaks. Mile after mile rolled by with kids and non-drivers grabbing naps. The kids talked and played hand held games. Travelling across South Dakota from the western border to its eastern border seemed to take forever. Mile after mile rolled under our wheels. Finally, after hours on the road, we entered Iowa. Everyone was growing weary and we stopped just short of Des Moines in a small town called Adair. It reminded us of small town America with one main street, feed storage, and a green town park near its center.
It was in the park that we would spend the night. The park had a pavilion, play ground, basketball court, and restrooms with SHOWERS. It wasn’t long until the kids of Adair found out there was a group of new kid visitors. They brought the basketball and played until the food was cooked and ready. Before the kids sped off on their bicycles, they said they’d be back in the morning to see us off. We thought the kids wouldn’t show. We were going to leave early.
The air cooled and we climbed into tents and sleeping bags. As we drifted off to sleep, the whistle of the trains passing on the nearby railroad tracks sang lullabies.