Siri said go west. We went. Siri said go south. We went. Siri said go west. The sign said "Bridge Out, 5 Miles." We went West anyway, on US 36 (which eventually goes to Boulder, Colorado), only to arrive at a sign that says, "Road Closed 3 Miles Ahead, Local Traffic Only"
Not to be discouraged or defeated, since the actual high point was only ten miles beyond, we plotted a course through the lesser farm roads of Ohio and Indiana with our map app. Left here, right there. We came to the tiny village of Hollansburg, Ohio and dropped off a postcard. Up the street all the cars from all around were parked in a field at roadside. What??? Ah, little league baseball. There's still hope for America after all. How completely charming! I wanted to stop and pick a team to cheer for, but Alex wouldn't let me. Too shy. Too embarassing.
On the other side of town, the roads got more narrow, down to single lanes between corn fields. Suddenly we came out at Bethel, and a zig zag later we found the Highest Point in Indiana, Hoosier Hill. 3 students from a local college were there, signing the logbook. It was their first highpoint, my 24th, and Alex's 14th. We all had a few minutes pleasant chat, and went our ways, the chance meeting having run its course. It seemed remarkable that the five people who visited the high point that day all happened to be there at the same time.
The ten miles south of Bethel to Interstate 70 were an up and down roller coaster ride unlike any other. We both got that funny feeling in our stomachs many times. Interstate. Nothing happens on the interstate, does it?
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