08 June 2012

Bardstown to White Mills KY 59 miles (TransAm 911)

The dog’s name is Pancake. He’s a friendly fellow, which you might have guessed with a name like Pancake. Not likely to hear his owner yell “Pancake, attack!” or “Sic ’em Pancake!” His owner – who we shall call Lisa because according to Gina, the woman is the spittin’ image of our own Lisa F of BBQ fame, from her look to her sound to her mannerisms – is friendly too and, like Henry in Kentucky during the pouring rain, is about to hand out some bluegrass hospitality of her own in the searing heat. As Gina stands waiting in Lisa’s driveway for a few of her fellow TransAmmers, Lisa and Pancake have come out to ask if she is lost. “No, just waiting for my friends,” replies Gina, followed by “Is there anywhere around here to get a cold coke?” Yes, Gina, there is, and it’s in Lisa’s garage, from where Lisa returns with four cold Pepsi colas for Gina to share with the group.

Now I know some unbelievably terrible things have happened to our TransAmmers in Kentucky and there have been many days of truly awful roads and traffic and weather and conditions that they’ve had to endure while traversing this state, and because of all that, it’s highly probable that when their wheels cross over that state line in three days time they will breathe a huge sigh of relief, pump their fists in the air, give a smile skyward, and never look back. But for whatever painful memories they’ll be carrying across that border, I, for one, am grateful that they’re also carrying the kindness of strangers.

Not so long ago here in Ballard, I was admiring a Pancake. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if his name was also Pancake, given how he would lay out flat and then flip over. It’s free concert season at the Ballard Locks, and this pup was out with his owner enjoying a little jazz while I was out enjoying a little ride around our fine city. No one offered me a cold coke, but then again, it was only 55 degrees.  Yep, summer’s here.