Road Trip - Cover

Road Trip

Copyright© 2017 by Old Man with a Pen

Chapter 19

Doctor Davis had a highly qualified and extremely expensive geologist analyze the Trident Chert Mine. It seems that millions of years ago... 70 million, to be precise ... as if a span of a million years can pinpoint an event ... Trident was a series of coral reefs in a shallow warm sea. Something cataclysmic happened ... one of those planet building things. The sea drained, the coral died. During the same event, the dinosaurs, aquatic plant feeders and their predators, joined the coral in extinction.

Volcanic action had been rocking the western half of the continent. Lava, basalt, bedrock all added weight to rest on the coral ... and compress and compact it ... limestone. The mile or so of volcanic deposition had several disastrous things happen to it over the millions of years following the great death. Water eroded it, ice ground it, earthquake cracked it and tilted it ... many times. Erosion uncovered it, continental drift uplifted it, tectonic action sunk it ... not just once ... but many times.

To us a million years is a fuck of a long time ... to a geologist it’s yesterday ... to them ten thousand years happened a second ago. Six hundred sixty six thousand years ago, the volcano we call Yellowstone erupted for the fourth time in four million years.

Geology thinks BLAM ... BLAM ... BLAM ... BLAM, a geologic semi automatic rifle ... the fifth round is in the chamber and the trigger has been pulled. Geologists are expecting the firing pin to connect with the primer soon.

A friend of a friend of Hairy knows a guy in Lewistown, Montana who has a piece of Yellowstone caldera the size of his house next to his house. It’s in his front yard. It has been to outer space and gravity pulled it back ... sorry ... gravity sucks, not pulls. One hundred ninety one miles. If it was at optimum angle 45 degrees it was at least 120 miles up before it came down. But ... there is always a but ... Oregon possesses a good sized piece of Yellowstone caldera ... not house sized but damn big ... six hundred twenty-one miles.

That was all in aid of nothing in particular.

Davis suggested that the geologist take a busman’s holiday and visit me. Davis called after the fella was on the way.

“Hello Karen.”

“Doctor Davis ... you want something.”

“I am shocked and hurt that you would even consider that I would consider such an action.”

“Can it, Doc ... what’s up?”

“A geologist is about to call. Put him up for a couple of days ... feed him, house him and let him explore. He’ll tell you about your land.”

“As long as I don’t have to entertain him.”

But I did, after he he arrived, he took a nap in one of the visitor tipis. I was in Hairy’s painted lodge studying the Songbag and three finger picking to Freight Train when he wandered in.

“Angels ... I hear angels on harps,” he said.

I stopped.

“No ... no ... don’t stop,” he said. “Play that again.” “Please.”

So, I did.

“Magnificent!” he asked, “Do you sing?” “You do.”

When I came to the break, he whipped out a Horner Blues Harp and took it. I chorded along behind ... then it was my turn. He improvised while I thumb hammered out the melody.

I started singing in my nearly tenor alto and he joined with a tenor harmony.

Freight train freight train goin’ so fast Freight train freight train goin’ so fast Please don’t tell what train I’m on So they won’t know where I’ve gone.
Freight train, freight train, comin’ round the bend Freight train, freight train, gone again One of these days turn that train around Go back to my hometown.
Freight train freight train goin’ so fast Freight train freight train goin’ so fast Please don’t tell what train I’m on So they won’t know where I’ve gone.
One more place I’d like to be One more place I’d love to see To watch those old blue ridge mountains climb As I ride ol’ number nine.
Freight train freight train goin’ so fast Freight train freight train goin’ so fast Please don’t tell what train I’m on So they won’t know where I’ve gone.
When I die please bury me deep Down at the end of Bleecker street So I can hear ol’ number nine As she goes rollin’ by.
Freight train freight train goin’ so fast Freight train freight train goin’ so fast Please don’t tell what train I’m on So they won’t know where I’ve gone.
Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc used without permission/

For never played or sang it ... it was wonderful. Crystal cuddled up and laid her head against the soundboard ... drums ... I put my guitar in the case and hugged it ... it wasn’t very satisfying.

A small fire keeps the mosquitoes away and the dew doesn’t settle.

At midnight, he went to his tipi. He started a small fire. I looked out the door. The liner kept his shadow off the cover. But I could see what he was doing ... minutes later he threw his head back and howled. Coyotes on the east hills answered. There was a closer yowl. Crystal ran out the door.

In the night she came back smelling of sex ... the bitch! More kittens to farm out.

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