The drive was long and running well into the wee hours of the night, now early morning. We drove through the small town of Two Harbors, Minnesota, stopping at the Holiday Gas Station on the east side of town. This is a usual stop for us, to get coffee, grab the latest news paper, a gallon of milk and maybe some fresh fruit for the morning. Its a nice little break with just 35 minutes left to drive to our house. Even though there are very few customers out at this early hour, we had to park off to the side of the building, away from the front door, as I was pulling the Scamp behind us. On this particular morning, the local police officer was taking his 3 am coffee break at the Holiday. I walked in, greeted him and asked, What are you doing in here? Youre usually sitting on the side of the road watching me when we come through at this hour. He got a chuckle out of that, then said, A guy can only sit in that car for so long. Where are you off to this early in the morning. Home. I replied, adding, Just past Silver Bay. How far did you come from? He asked. All the way up from southeast Iowa. I told him. Thats a long way. He said. How was the drive? You asked, I said, So now I have to tell you the story: For the most part, the drive was uneventful. It got exciting after we drove through Duluth. From Duluth to our house, we have an option of two routes: the two lane, very scenic drive that runs right along the shoreline of Lake Superior, or the four lane express way that runs slightly inland with a posted speed limits of 65 miles per hour. Since theres not much to see in the dark at this time of morning, we opted for the expressway. Shortly after getting on the four lane, Melissa said she saw something and asked me to turn around and go back. I found the nearest place I could make a U-turn with the Scamp. Back near the beginning of the four lane, I made another U-turn to get the car going the way we were, when she saw whatever she saw. Right then, I had a contact come loose. I immediately pulled over to the shoulder to take care of it. Melissa asked me to turn on my high beams, so I did. There on the edge of the road was the wolf she saw, just hanging out. We have seen wolves along the side of the highway before, but its not very common. They prefer to spectate from the safety of the dark cover of the woods. This wolf was barely in to the tall grass at the edge of the road, maybe 20 feet from us. He was watching us every bit as intently as we were watching him, as we admired his beauty and mystique. He would slowly take a couple steps further into the tall grass on the edge of the woods, then stop, never taking his eyes off is. With our head lights cast upon him, he was clearly in our view. He glanced away for just a moment, and then returned his stare toward us. I took a look in the back of the car. June was standing at full attention. Her ears were laid back on her head, her tail tucked in below, like she will do when she senses danger. Melissas window was opened, I wondered if June were to bark, would the wolf run to the woods, or charge at us. June and the wolf remained in locked eye contact. Neither made a sound. The feeling was peaceful, yet very eerie. There was a cautious tension between the two canines. We watched him for just a few minutes, but it seemed much longer. There is something about a wolfs eyes, an intense, steely look, that will mesmerize a person. He eventually ran off into the woods, and we began our trek toward home. We continued on our way, I set the cruise control at 70 miles per hour. I kept thinking about the wolf, how odd it was that he would just hang out on the side of a highway, allowing us to watch him. Normally a wolf would immediately run away. He did not appear to be injured, and there was no apparent road kill in the vicinity. I wondered if there was something in the atmosphere that was causing his behavior to alter from the norm. The full moon was the week before, so it couldnt have been that. I kept driving as I pondered the unusual circumstances. Just then I noticed the white centerline in the road, started to move. It squiggled right, then back to the left, and then to the right again. How strange. Those lines can not move. This one was smaller then the rest of the lines, and it was clearly moving, no doubt about it. I dont drink and drive, and I wasnt on any medications so how could this be. The white line moved one last time, making a circular motion. It all began to make sense. Crap! Skunk! At this point Pepe Le Pew turned his back toward me, pointed his tail straight into the air, taking aim my direction as if to say, bring it on driver, show me what ya got! In my head I heard that mysterious, whistling, flute music that always plays when Clint Eastwood is called out to dual, on the Main Street in an old western movie. The skunk and I were playing a game of chicken, right there on highway 61. We were playing for keeps, winner takes all, and there was no way for me to get out of the game. Keep in mind, we were pulling the Scamp, so quick swerving motions are extremely un-advised. The best I could do, was veer slightly to the right, in hopes he would stay still, allowing me to pass over, with him straddled between my tires. The last thing I wanted to do was to run over this little tyrant. As I charged onward, he called out, Ready! My car got closer, his tail went higher, Aim! The moment was at hand. He disappeared from my view in front of the hood of my car. As my front bumper sped toward him, I heard him cry out his final command, Fire! All thirty-three hundred pounds of Subaru passed over the little stink pot, followed by two thousand pounds of Scamp. I heard only a couple of light thumps under the car, not loud enough to have run over him with the tire, but clearly his tail brushed the underside of my vehicle. I had successfully straddled over this courageous little road warrior, willing to challenge a beast 1,000 times his size. Melissa and I both immediately sat up straight, arched our backs, pushing our noses forward into the air, rapidly sniffing. Whew! No malodorous scent. Perhaps his gun jammed. Its possible he ducked while trying to shoot, and missed us. Maybe his weapon was never loaded and he was just bluffing from the beginning. What ever the case may be, it seemed we had dodged his line of fire. We win! Although we couldnt smell anything while driving down the road, when I got out of the car at the Holiday station on the east side of Two Harbors, it was clear, ole Pepe had scored at least a partial hit upon his intended target. He sprayed the bottom side of the Scamp. And so, officer, I said, That is how the drive has been so far. Arent you glad you asked? He looked at me and replied, So you admit you were doing 70 in a 65 miles per hour zone? We had a good laugh about that. I said my farewell, Keep the town safe, and Ill be looking for you on the side of the road the next time we pass through. He replied, You have a safe drive. Slow down, and remember, when you come through next time, Ill be watching you. Melissa and I continued north on highway 61, headed toward home. Just a few miles down the road, we watched another wolf run across the highway, and then into the woods. Wow, two in one night. A short while later, we saw yet a third wolf, running down the shoulder. As we got closer to him, he veered right, off the road and into the woods. This is just not normal to see three wolves in one night near the highway. I was keeping and eye on the ditches for deer. The last thing I needed on this evening of oddity, was a deer strike. As we approached the lighted intersection near the entrance of Goose Berry Falls State Park, I remained vigilant. I was watching the ditches so closely, that I didnt notice the deer standing on the raised concrete median between the two lanes. Its an awfully helpless feeling you have when you see a deer so close and you have no idea what direction they will move. At 60 mile an hour, there was no way I could get stopped. Again, since we were pulling the Scamp, swerving was not an option. I committed to a decision. There is less chance of passengers getting hurt if I collide with a deer compared to the risk of losing control of the car by making an erratic maneuver at highway speeds, while attempting to avoid her. If the deer comes my way, I am going to have to hit the her. I immediately said a prayer that the doe would hold her position, or at least run the other way away from my car. Her back feet started that nervous little twitching they do, and she started to move toward my lane. She raised both her front feet high into the air, I just knew she was going to run in front of me. Can you imagine my befuddlement when she brought both her front feet up and placed them on the post of the pedestrian crossing sign on the median. With her front hooves embracing the pole, her back feet kept moving. I wasnt sure if she was trying to climb the pole...or perhaps she was doing a burlesque pole dance for some buck looking on from the woods at the side of the road. We passed her unscathed. I was beginning to question my sanity at this point. What I just saw, could not possibly happen. I thought I was loosing my marbles, until Melissa asked, Did you just see that? I wasnt sure if she was testing me to see if I was mentally cracking up, so I answered, See what? Did you see that deer trying to climb that pole? I replied , I didnt see anything. I was watching for deer in the ditches. Three wolves on the highway, moving white center lines, playing chicken with a skunk, telling a cop I was speeding, and watching Bambi, the venison exotic dancer perform on stage in the middle of the highway. All in one nights drive. If I dont stop these late night drives, Ill probably will end up on medications.
Posted on: Mon, 25 Aug 2014 15:00:26 +0000
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