| 19 July 2010
“I see my path, but I don't know where it leads. Not knowing where I'm going is what inspires me to travel it.”
~ Rosalia de Castro
This has been quite an adventure-filled, exciting and exhausting week.
It all started last Sunday when Sweet-D and I decided to venture through the countryside just beyond the state line. We were asked to provide special music at old-fashioned revival set at the site of the first church in the Restoration Movement (a religious movement I only learned of when I got there.)
"If I didn't know you very well, I would really be questioning your motives," I told Sweet-D as we traveled around yet another wooded turn on the one-lane road. I glanced down to see "No Service" on my iPhone. "Looks like we're in this together if we get lost out here."
"No service?" Sweet-D said hesitantly.
"Not a blip," I answered.
"Then straight it is," he said with a laugh.
The scenery was breathtaking for the most-part, but the occasional rundown house and empty farm started reminding me of something straight out of the movie Deliverance. Sweet-D and I are always up for adventures, but I have to be honest I do get nervous when I go places without cell phone service. It's an inevitable phobia that stems from an over abundant dependence on technology. I can only imagine that places like this will cave to the modern times or simply cease to exist in the coming generations.
After about 40 minutes, we finally saw a sign pointing us to our destination. The sign was right beside a field of cows, my least favorite animal on the planet (long story.... I'm sure I'll update those who don't know at some point).
"MMmmmmmooooooouuuuuueeeeeeeewwwwwww," hollered Sweet-D in a deep chesty voice. "That is my favorite thing to do to a cow."
This was enough to entertain him for another 15 minutes until we reached another sign. Low and behold, it was right outside the fence to a cow field.
I'm not sure if it was luck or just coincidence, but the cows were close to the fence. Sweet-D was still cracking himself up with his demented cow impression, so he stopped the jeep, rolled down the window and attempted to communicate with one of the spotted spawns of satan.
I almost felt bad for the poor Holstein as my husband popped his head out of the window and let out his best "MMmmmmmooooooouuuuuueeeeeeeewwwwwww" of the evening.
When we saw a spark in the cow's eye, we decided that "MMmmmmmooooooouuuuuueeeeeeeewwwwwww" was either a cattle mating call or a signal that, in not so many words, "it was on." The last thing we needed on our hands was a smitten cow trying to jump the fence or, worse yet, a cow stampede because the master of the battling heard just declared war.
Even if we had cell phone service, I have no idea who we'd call to solve this one.
Uh, 911... we have a bit of a situation here at the fourth cow pasture past the entrance to Deliverance.
When we finally made it to the hilltop where the revival was being held, we weren't really surprised to see an empty field surrounded by trees and a small make-shift stage with a canopy over it.
We were, however, surprised to see a sound system on the stage.
"Wow... who'd a thunk they'd have electricity out here," I said jokingly. "Seriously though, there are no buildings in a mile radius and I don't see a generator. Where are they getting power?"
I was ready to chalk it up to some miraculous power outlet coming out of the ground, but Sweet-D found an extension cord and followed it down part of the hill.
"That's creative," he said. "And probably a little dangerous."
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Comments
I loved your story of your drive. Moo.
I'm curious what a poor cow did to you to make you hate them so.
My husband doesn't "Moooooeeeoow" at cows, he prefers to honk his horn at them as we pass. BOYS!
So the coaches did what any sane person would have done and tried to wrangle them in the fence themselves. Instead of herding the cows to their fenced-in prison, they just ticked them off.
Well, the girls ran first. On the way up the third hill, I had hyper-extended my knee. I was huffing and puffing because I was in some pain. I approached one of the Holsteins and it charged after me. Apparently huffing and puffing is some sort of demented sign for tag in the cattle world.
I ended up with a torn ligament in my knee and some sort of cattle-curse on me. Since then, every cow I've come close to tries to charge me. It's like they know.
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