'Don't Stop Believin'"...and, yes, the road was closed
For the ever-so-briefest of moments, I closed my eyes and was driving down South Broadway Street in Lexington, Kentucky...
...the ever-so-familiar sounds of the Journey song “Don’t Stop Believin’” are coming from the car’s radio...
...and the moment had to be really, really brief, ‘cause I really, really was driving...
(NOTE TO YOUNG DRIVERS: Do not drive with your eyes closed. Even for the briefest of moments. It’s dumb. Just like texting when you are driving. Or using your cell phone when you are driving. Pay attention to adults. They would never, ever do such dumb things.)
“Don’t Stop Believin’” really was playing on the car radio last Saturday morning while I was motoring along the Old Cape Road, between metropolitan Jonesboro and Reynoldsville.
In my particular Journey Through Life, “Don’t Stop Believin’” has become a bit of a sound track moment. Not all that many years ago, The Other Half and yours truly had helped to take a rather special person in our life together on a trip which was leading to the next chapter in her, and our, lives.
As we were driving away, on the aforementioned South Broadway Street in Lexington, Kentucky, “Don’t Stop Believin’” came on the radio. I don’t know if the The Other Half was paying attention to the song. Yours truly truly was listening. The song, and the moment, became permanently connected in my simple little mind.
As I look back on that moment in time, it seems like the song was telling me that everything would be just fine. For that special person in our life. And for us. And, you know what, everything did turn out just fine.
Back to the here and now...
...last Saturday morning, I was heading down Old Cape Road to take some pictures of the water in the Mississippi River and Clear Creek bottom lands. Seems like this sort of thing has happened quite often in recent years. Oh, more rain was falling at the time. More water was coming.
As I turned left off of Illinois Route 127, I caught a very brief glimpse of white-tailed deer off the right, doing whatever deer do on rainy Saturday mornings. A “Road Closed” sign alerted motorists of what was ahead. I’m guessing that folks in our little part of the world are getting used to seeing such a sign. Another one of the signs was posted farther down the road.
Old Cape Road is nothing like South Broadway in Lexington. South Broadway is in the heart of a city. Old Cape Road is in the heart of the country.
South Broadway is, for the most part, pretty much straight and to the point. Old Cape Road offers some winding and curving challenges.
South Broadway, at least as far as I know, does not take motorists to a creek which has a tendency to flood on what seems like a fairly frequent basis these days. Old Cape Road goes to Clear Creek. Well, most of the time it does.
It did not last Saturday. I made it almost to the creek. At one point, in a low-lying area area of the road, there was some water. Not much. And not deep enough that I could not drive through.
My journey along Old Cape Road quickly came to an end, ‘cause the water over the road was just too deep for a car.
I stopped and took some photographs. Yup. Lots of water. Flooding. Deja vu all over again.
At one point, a pickup truck drove by. The driver paused for a short time, and then continued a journey through the water.
Shortly after that, a car came my way. A BMW, I believe. The woman who was driving the car stopped. She rolled down her window.
“Is the road closed?” she asked. She had seen the “Road Closed” signs. She was on the way to Cape Girardeau. From Paducah.
Her fancy, shmancy navigation system apparently had told her to take the Old Cape Road to get to Cape Girardeau. Most of the time, that would be fine. Not on Saturday. The fancy, shmancy navigation system did not know that the Old Cape Road was flooded.
So, I scribbled some directions and drew a map on a piece of paper, sort of a very, very, very low-tech Google map for her. She said thank you, turned around, and headed back the way she had come.
I shot a few more pictures, including a couple with boats that were “docked” along Old Cape Road. I headed back to Route 127. Rain was still falling. I kept my eyes open. Nope. This definitely is not Lexington, Kentucky.