It’s been a very long time since I’ve sat down to write to you. Not too many travel stories since then but let’s see if I can jog my memory about our travels down to lovely southern Illinois for the River to River race. I’d sum it up this way: 8 dykes in a van (VanDykes), 2 crazy men, Fleetwood Mac, and American Idol.

I know, I know, none of that makes any sense whatsoever. Allow me to unpack it for you. After a leisurely drive down I-57, passing our favorite marker for knowing we are in BFE, the huge white cross on the side of the highway with a convenient visitors center, we sauntered into Carbondale for lunch at Panera (yes, even Carbondale appears to be gentrifying – at least from a southern Illinois perspective). It was a lovely, warm day so we decided to eat outside. Within minutes, we heard a distant voice get louder and louder, singing, er, squawking at the top of his lungs. A young man with headphones singing I mean squawking out of tune at the top of his lungs. You know what I’m talking about…a boy/man voice struggling to enter manhood. The words were indecipherable.

This should be interesting. He abruptly stopped singing, turned toward our table and asked, “Do you think I am a good singer?” Two of us decided to ignore the question and our brave-hearted leader decided to reply. I think the reply should go down in the record books. “I don’t think you’d be chosen for American Idol.” Brilliant. His reply, “Oh.” End of conversation.

Next thing I know, a homeless man walks up and says to the young man “You sound like shit.” No hi, no what are you doing, no nothing. Do you think it was rude of us to laugh…rude or not, we could not help ourselves. Then the young man says “It’s Fleetwood Mac, ever heard of them?” Next thing I know, Homeless man and Mentally challenged young man are asking each others names, engaging in conversation as if they’d known each other forever. What we didn’t know was that Homeless Man also wanted to engage us in the conversation.

So what does he say to try to attract our interest. “I hate them gay girls.” Charming. Then, something about Melissa Etheridge and so on. The beauty of drunk lucidity. They continued their conversation and we continued ours and next thing we know, Homeless Man is saying “cock-a-doodle-do.” Naive Young Man is enthralled by this, I have to admit, spot-on rooster impression. “How’d you do that?” Homeless Man knew his work was done for the day and ambled off across the parking lot.

After writing this I realize that the written word doesn’t do it any justice. So if you’d like a funnier rendition, just ask Nikki. Oh, and yes, the race was a blast and we did manage to recruit the beginnings of a sister team from St. Louis—MO VanDykes. Add to this our quest for a younger, faster team to be known as MindVanDykes. Maybe we can plan a pre-race devotional session at the Effingham Cross. It’s good to be back.

Happy Trails,
Vic