Wandering with Granddaddy

My dad would have been right at home heading over the mountains into Kentucky with Daniel Boone.  It's entirely possible that a grandparent or two back that is exactly what happened.  I can certainly envision his ancestor waving gaily to the wife and kids as he headed off to enjoy exploring the unknown.  My dad could relate.

Nothing was more fun to him than driving around exploring the not so traveled path.  Always gregarious and interested in people he would take off and wander happily from little community to little community.  Lunch time would find him sitting in the local diner or restaurant with the locals enjoying a blue-plate special and gossip.  Before long he would have directions to a favorite fishing spot, a lead on some great antique "finds", a little known historical site or just a great view. He would then climb back in his vehicle and, waving to his new friends, drive on.

The wanderlust would often come on him suddenly and he would announce that anyone who was ready in 30 minutes could join him.  Mom, never one to be left behind, kept a small suitcase packed with overnight supplies ready at all times.  I suspect they were the inventors of the phrase "There's Life after Kids" as, after we left home,  they no longer had to work around our plans in order to take off for a week-end.  They would return home relaxed, full of the places they had been and what they had seen.  They might have wandered into other states or only one county over--you never knew.

After mother died, Daddy wandered alone or occasionally with a like minded friend, but his heart wasn't in it.  Then he moved to the farm, and discovered a new generation to indoctrinate into exploring the back roads and byways.  The kids found this uninhibited, unplanned approach to travel vastly different from our very scheduled and structured trips and utterly wonderful.  With absolute delight they would pile into the cab of his pickup and drive out of the driveway.  The adventure would start when they reached the highway and Daddy would turn to them and ask, "Which way?"  With no more plan in mind than the view from the next curve they would happily set off.

They wandered the small towns and back roads.  Sometimes they lunched in little cafes, sometimes they ate cheese and crackers along the roadside.  They visited historical markers and learned a great deal of the history of the early settlers.  They learned to whittle with old-timers on the porches of feed stores and absorbed stories of a vanishing way of life.  They played with kids in small parks while Granddaddy visited in the shade, and learned to make friends easily.  They poked about in old barns full of junk or "antique" stores and learned about the items of a life they would never know. 

At night they would stay in a small town motel....or not.  Daddy was just as likely to head back the little roads until he found a field bordering a creek and just camp (mostly without permission or even the knowledge of the owner--however, if an owner was available, they assured me they did ask!)  His idea of camping was a little different than most.  His favorite mode of travel was a pickup truck with a topper on the back.  This allowed him to stow a couple of lawn chairs, a fishing rod, maybe an old mattress, a few furniture pads (left over from his furniture store days.) and a supply of rations. 

A couple of cans of soda would be stashed in the creek to cool, while the kids were set to gathering up firewood for their campsite.  Soon, he would have the kids fishing or playing in the shallows of the creek while he built  a campfire. Depending on the success of their last grocery stop, supper might range from hamburgers and pork and beans to Vienna sausage and crackers.  Generally followed by a whole bag of marshmallows burned to a crispy black. 

Then as dusk would fall, the small campfire would be augmented with the branches and chunks of dead wood until it reached bonfire proportions.  Settling back on the thick furniture pads they would watch the sparks rise up to the stars and listen to the sounds of the night.  Eventually, Daddy would start with, "Have I ever told you about....."  The stories of his childhood, historic characters, some not-so-historic characters and just plain tall tales would continue until eyes started to close.  Then he would load the kids into the back of the truck and settle them for the night to dream of the next day's adventures.

Every kid should be so lucky to have a wandering granddaddy.