The Gauntlet

Yesterday I had the occasion to drive through a small town.  A little town.  With a square in the center. With one, small grocery store, a tiny branch of a bank, 2 gas stations, a pizza place, a Catholic church, and, of course, a grain elevator.  Around the square are bars (several), a bowling alley (small), and several empty buildings shouting about a busy past.  I have had, over the years, many, many occasions to drive through or to this little town.  I've been there for wedding receptions, festivals, to fill up with gas, to eat pizza.  I've been to a few of the bars in that town, visited people in that town, been to a wedding and a funeral in that town.  I do believe that I have even been bowling in the (small) bowling alley.  It's a fairly lively place, as small towns go.

At Festival time, the town is chock full of people.  People spilling out of the bars around the square to watch the Festival festivities in the square.  People crowding the square to eat, gossip, ride carnival rides, and to be festive. People come from all over the area to the Festival.  It is a Big small town event!

These days, when I have occasion to go to that town, it is to simply drive in from the south, turn right at the 2nd stop sign, go 2 blocks, turn left, and drive on out of town to the north.  Coming home, I do the reverse.  The only reason that I have to stop is the stop signs in that town.  Unless I have to stop at the gas station, I simply pass right on through.  It's an easy-peasy, stop and go, drive through town.

Except for yesterday.  Coming in from the south, as the houses start to accumulate at the edge of town, there was traffic.  A lot of traffic for a small town.  Cars parked on both sides of the road for blocks and blocks at the road going into a little sub-division type area.  It looked like a small town auction scenario to me.  I figured that I would drive past the action and have my easy-peasy time the rest of the way through town. 

I carefully maneuvered my car through the traffic .... and through the hoards of people (hoards for a small town!) walking from their cars to the area of activity.  I thought that I had it made.  But, once I got through the throngs of bodies and vehicles, I saw it.  As far into the little town as I could see, there were people.  And cars.  And pick ups.  And... Yard Sales.  City wide Yard Sales.  On every street, on lawn after lawn, in garage after garage, there were boundless treasures to be had!  There were people running ..... yes!  really running! ... to get to cardboard boxes of someone else's discarded goods.  There were people pawing through tables piled high with old clothing, books, toys, and so on and so on and so on.  Babies in strollers, hidden behind the bags of treasures that a parent had scored.  Kids pulling wagons full of goodies to take home to Mom.  Men struggling under the weight of the items that needed to get to the back of their pick ups.  Women stuffing more and more into the trunks of their cars. 

I avoided a man carrying a dining room type chair as he walked out in front of me.  He couldn't see for the boxes stacked on top of the chair, topped with about to topple bags,  and hindering his view.

I didn't get hit by the pick up that backed out in front of me.  They couldn't see for the obscene amount of items in the bed of the truck.

The lady with the arms full of clothing ... that looked rather like she was trying to contain a flock of octopus ...  stopped before she walked smack into the side of my car.

The kids on bikes, pulling a wagon full of something that looked like their mother should ban it from entering her home, decided to ride behind, rather than directly in front of, my car, thusly avoiding a collision of a very bad kind.

It was a struggle, a driving feat that Mr Jones and Mr Peters, those long ago driving instructors, would have been proud of.  I did not hit a single item, person, or vehicle while trying to get out of there without incident! 

It took a couple of miles out of town to the north before the sales stopped and the traffic eased back to normal, rural Iowa traffic.  Whew. 

But, I had to go home.  I thought and thought.  If I went one way or another, it was a long way out of my way.  And, there were going to be Grandkids waiting when I got home.  Did I dare to attempt a drive through that town again?  Or did I venture way out of my way and take precious time away from Grandkids??  Such a choice!

By the time I was headed home, I figured that the crowds would have thinned out.  The good stuff would have been picked over and people would have gone home with their trash turned to treasure!  It wasn't a long time between my trips through town, at most an hour, but true garage/yard sale experts know that the early bird gets the best treasures.  I bolstered my defenses with a protein bar and a bottle of water and decided to take my chances and brave the little town again.

It was ok going in from the north.  Not too bad getting to the intersection where the gas station is.  But, as soon as I turned that corner, I sighed.  If possible, it was worse!  There were groups, mobs even, of people absolutely everywhere! 

It took a good long while to manage to make the turn off of the area around the square.  I couldn't get through the pedestrians.

I drove a pace slower than a crawl to get to the first stop sign. 

 I could see the light at the end of the Yard Sale tunnel.  It was a straight shot out of town.  Yes, there were a good many sales going on between where I sat at the stop sign and the edge of town where I would reach the relative safety of the open road.  But there was hope!

I took a deep breath, took my foot off of the brake, and let me car idle through the intersection.  Success!

I ever so slowly eased my car down the street.  Most of the people were walking on the sidewalks now (smart, smart people).  A few would cross the streets, but they looked!  It seemed like I was going to make it!

I was almost to the last group of sales.  Cars and trucks lined both sides of the street.  There were no longer sidewalks for people to walk on.  In front of me was a pick up, hauling a big, big boat.  (A braver driver than me, for sure!)  I glanced up to mark our progress and gasped.  On the other side of the car lined section of street was a school bus.  Heading towards us.  No way was that school bus and that boat going to be able to pass each other in that section of the street.  I stopped where I was.  I had no where to turn, but there was nothing behind me.  I could always back up or find a driveway to turn around in, right? 

The bus stopped.  The boat stopped.  Sizing each other up.  And then, they both started to slowly advance.  Really????  I didn't move.  Slowly, ever so slowly, they wiggled and eased and inched their way past each other.  Amazing!  No way did I think that was possible!  (Which is why I don't drive a school bus or pull a boat!) 

I started forward again.  If those guys could make it through, well then, so could I!  I was almost there.  Almost out of town.  When yet another pick up. laden with wares, backed out in front of me.  I wasn't moving fast enough to not be able to stop, so I stopped, again.  And gazed in awe at the cargo in the bed of that truck.  Colors of every hue of things of every nature!  Furniture, clothing, knick knacks and what nots!  Standing tall and proud, in the middle of that mess, a perpetual smile on his plastic face, was Santa Claus!  He was emerging from the jumble, one hand raised in a holiday happy greeting!   It was like a giant thumbs up!  "You made it" that wave said! " Merry early Christmas", that smile said!  Or maybe he was trying to get my attention in desperation, so that he could be saved from the assorted stuff that he was half buried in. 

I followed poor Santa out of town to the first gravel road to the left.  The last that I saw of him, he was being enveloped in a giant cloud of dust, as the pickup sped up and rounded a curve.  He was still smiling and waving him the last little glance that I had of him.   I hope that he has found a home where his holiday cheer will be well appreciated.  Poor, poor Santa.

Now, I have been to a few garage/yard sales in my day.  I have found some truly wonderful things;  bolstered my craft supply, augmented my wardrobe, clothed my children, gotten some very good deals and things.  I love garage/yard sales!

But never, ever have I seen the crowds, the actions, the seemingly crazed emotions of the people in that little town.  I am probably forever scarred where Santa is concerned.  I will never be able to look at an octopus without seeing the face of that lady with those clothes in her clutches.  Kids on bikes will forever give me the shivers if they come at me like a flock of wild animals.  I may faint at the image of a pick up truck backing out in front of me.   And I will do my utmost best to remember that early June is a bad, bad time to drive through that little town on a Saturday morning.

I survived though!   It rather felt like having to survive the gauntlet to get to the prize of being able to get home, to play with the grandkids and enjoy the day.  That was my prize at the end of struggle!  It was well worth the trouble of getting back through that town.   Even though, if I had it to do again, I would take the long way home.