Racing across I-70 towards St. Louis, the thought of exiting, on one of many two-lane routes leading away from that travel chaos, crossed our mind more than once. Storms rode our tailgate throughout the day though, recommending otherwise. There would be time for the two-lane, when it was required.
Tornadic conditions were promised in the region in which my comrade and I planned for first base camp. The first warnings were dispatched just as the dying remnants of Route 66 faded into the rear-view mirror. Blue sky opened in spite of the warnings, with two-lane stretched out in front of our transport, finally offering a chance to pause at random amusements, here and there.
One of the spots enabled an opportunity to have our transport swallowed by the earth. An alignment too close to the edge of the exit portal caused the vehicle to be momentarily captured in the maw of a drainage serpent. Narrowly escaping with our lives, the remainder of the journey remained mostly uneventful.
Old Copper Mines Schoolhouse greeted us in no time, standing lonely under the blue sky that was quickly clouding over. Scant information is known about the place; actually, nothing beyond the name and location. A little further down and around the bend our first base camp offered safety from road hazards and the coming weather. It appeared as though it was still a few hours behind us though.
A desire for sustenance demanded the expedition risk one more crossing into the elements. A nearby, recently rehabilitated train depot enabled the activity to proceed quickly enough for return to base camp prior to clouds of doom unleashing their fury. Warnings continued to flash across the air waves. A bit further down the road, the little town of Wynne in Arkansas began to think about rebuilding. Check-in calls abounded with the news. We assured all that the incident 300 km away from our locale had left us mostly unscathed.
The storm finally rolled in much later than expected. We were beginning to wonder if it would come at all. Ample warning from the wall of rain, heard miles away, racing towards us from across the valley, enabled adequate time for retreat to our shelter. It poured copiously for about an hour, then ceased abruptly, leaving only occasional flashes of lightning and an ominous sky void of any starlight. That is as bad as circumstances got, or we slept through it. The weather stays up entirely too late sometimes.
