A sentimental journey

 This week I traveled four hours up to South Dakota to watch grandkids' baseball games, visit with the family and doing some reminiscing.  Spending time with the kids and grandkids is always fun and the time is always too short.  The memories are priceless.

Since Barbara was working on a church project, I traveled alone this time -- unusual for us to be apart for more than a day.  It became a sentimental journey since I had a couple days alone to prowl the backroads and places I used to live.

My first stop in Parkson (our home from 2021-2024) was to visit Kristina, who has been ill.  The visit was short to drop off some coffee, meet Cammy (Kristina's English Bulldog) and chat a little.  Then it was off to Mitchell to check in and then attend the first baseball game for Westyn at Emery.

Wednesday morning I met my brother, Terry, in Mitchell at The Mercantile for breakfast and to update each other on our lives.  Upon leaving Mitchell, I discovered the "low-pressure" light on the dashboard, and so after visiting the cemetery in Alex I returned to Mitchell to Graham Tire, where the crew there quickly and efficiently replaced a right rear tire that had picked up a screw somewhere.  

Then I headed east to visit Canistota and Montrose -- towns I lived in after selling the newspapers and before I met and married Barbara.  In Canistota I drove down Main Street to find the former Ortman Hotel gone, with a few new businesses.  Several Amish residents were walking the streets -- still a familiar sight was it was 25 years ago when I lived in Canistota.  The Amish come from various states to seek treatment at the famous Ortman Chiropractic Clinic.  

I drove down the street (Pine) where I lived for about 4 years.  The house was still there but looking rather forlorn and neglected.  Right next to it sat the tiny, decrepit building that looked just the same was it was when I lived in Canistota.  After a few minutes in town I drove east and then north to Montrose, where I lived around 2003-2005.

My former home on State Street was a big, beautiful corner lot with a huge, three-stall garage and a backyard that any kid would have loved.  The tree out front had grown huge.  When I drove around the lot I noticed that the white lilac bush I had planted there so many years ago was gone!  No longer there.  There was an old riding lawnmower sitting there with grass growing up around it, appearing to have been no longer used.  I wondered whether that was the same riding mower I bought and used when I lived there all those years ago.  

Looking at the north side of the house reminded me of how I used to pack hay bales against that side before each winter to try to block the north wind's bite.  Keeping the water pipes was freezing in winter was a continual battle while I lived there.

I continued my drive around Montrose and noticed that the General Store was closed.  How many years ago it closed I had no idea.  Probably not something that happened very recently.

I drove west out of town on Hwy. 38, recalling how I used to jog out of town on this highway.  Passing through Salem, I had extra time so I drove through Spencer (much of which was destroyed by a tornado years ago when I lived in Canistota), and then I drove into Farmer past where I went to school in 1968-69, although the school is no longer there.  Only the quonset hut that held the auditorium is still there, along with a school memorial that lists Farmer High School's graduates.

On my way to Mitchell I also drove through Fulton, where I used to stop during my newspaper days to check on ads at Fulton Elevator.  I also drove past my good friend Barry's house.

After watching Gavin's team play Wednesday night, I drove to Sioux Falls on Thursday to look around at Scheel's, and then walk the bike path that I jogged on for many years.  Getting up on the bike path at Elmwood Park surely brought back memories.  For so many years I jog 6 miles every work day on the path -- three miles north and then three miles back.  

The day was hot with a strong south wind, so the walk out was pleasant with the wind at my back.  Crossing the bridge near the Elmwood Golf Course, I continued north, meeting several bicyclists, one woman on a unicycle, and several bikers with those laid-back tricycle-type trikes.  A couple miles out my back was hurting plenty and, recalling I had no water with me, I decided I may have to cut the trip a bit shorter than I'd planned.  So I walked to the bridge on the path's far northwest corner where the path turns east near the airport and National Guard Armory.  I turned around and headed back against the wind.

A blister was forming on my right foot, I was thirsty and my back hurt plenty.  Finally, at 12:30 I returned to the RAV4, some 2:04 after I'd set foot on the bike trail.