He Was Older Than Me

Morning rush hour murders your nerves. Worse for turtles. I saw one the other day, stranded on the center line of a busy expressway. He was upside down, legs fully extended, grasping at the sky. His chances for survival were … Read More

Inappropriate Truck Route

On this day the mountains became the bumper sticker. We left I-40, swerving down rollercoaster roads. Deep in the woods after passing a polite sign warning “Inappropriate Truck Route” we stopped to ask directions. “Easy! Follow the road past Rocky … Read More

Ode to Road Hogs and Road Rage

I only did this once. On a lonely west Texas highway, where the flat boredom is punctuated by a battle between oil wells and windmills, we came upon a left lane hog in a nondescript sedan with heavily tinted windows. … Read More

Despite Sheridan, Bison making comeback

General Philip Sheridan’s statue stands on the New York state capitol grounds. Why do we honor this man who orchestrated the systematic genocide of the millions of bison on the American plains? Missouri’s Highway 13 cuts through a rogue’s gallery … Read More

On Seeds

There are seeds in every abandoned house, in the dry rotted floorboards and the mildewy walls, in the moss on the roof where sunlight doesn’t reach. The seeds are in the windowsills, in the clawfoot tub with as many rings … Read More

Good Water Gone Bad

It’s the greatest water park in the world. A summer afternoon at Johnson’s Shut-Ins will make you forget about manmade water parks. That’s because it pushes humans through some of the most hair-raising chutes a body can stand without drowning. … Read More

St. Louis: birthplace of fast food, but…

The Gateway to the West doesn’t have stockyards like its western sisters Saint Joseph and Sedalia and Kansas City. Still, one prime Saint Louis cattle drive steers my tastebuds to Lindbergh Boulevard. Kreis’ Restaurant has been kicking steak house butt … Read More

Pegleg Shannon’s County

Shannon County is a synonym for wilderness, with a few small settlements scattered across the deep woods. It’s a great place to hide, or get lost. From border to border, as the Jacks Fork River slices across its face, Shannon … Read More

‘Til We Meet Again

“I met an old buddy of yours,” I told my uncle Dan. He received the news as I expected he would, since he lies six feet beneath the granite marker that bears the name Daniel W. Drake. There was a … Read More