#us 71

Postcards from Snagglepuss: Going towards nowhere, with no worry of time (apologies to Bobby Goldsboro there)

And after quite the jam session at cousin Snaggletooth's retreat with no less than the Cattanooga Cats (which, admittedly, ran a bit wild in its own right, but they welcomed it--even Scoots, coming up as he did with a rather crazy story recalling some serious skinny-dipping at a swimming hole close by his house--"serious" to the extent of his picking up a fondness for diving underwater in so doing), there came some breakfast, enjoyed no doubt with the Cats "themselves", who tried not to go into overdone lazy mode.

And after the breakfast--which included some coffee for my trusty Thermos mug "for the road"--there was certainly much in the way of goodbyes to be had among all. Not exactly of sadness, but confident in the knowledge of having had some times most wonderful. And then, out of Okoboji on no less than US 71, crossing the Minnesota line in about the same length of time as a classic Hanna-Barbera short lasted--just under eight minutes. And up 71 to Windom, joining Minnesota 60 through the southwestern farm country to Mankato, thence to join US 169 northbound and out towards the Twin Cities ... heavens to the Jolly Green Giant, even! And four-lane for the most part out of Windom, though not exactly freeway in all honesty.

Once I make entrance into Shakopee, decide to kill an afternoon playing the ponies at Canterbury Downs racecourse ... the crowd was a little sparse, and the winnings almost seemed slim until it emerged that an exacta which I had wagered turned out to have been a Dead Heat, translating into something of a modest payout, which you wouldn't want to blow all so needlessly, even heading towards the Mall of America to as much kill an evening's time as find a decent "old school" motel room to kill some time in. Found close to the Minneapolis Veterans' Medical Centre in the form and fashion of the Snelling Motel. Just try not to be distracted by the passing of light-rail trains past the premi at almost all hours of day and evening, especially from the second-story patio. Which is where my mobile phone goes off at just before midnight, as two light-rail trains in opposite directions pass by the motel premi, and--

"Snagglepuss?"

"Huckleberry Hound?!"

"Just calling to see if you're still alright."

"Up in Minneapolis by the VA hospital, and in a choice light-rail watching spot besides!"

"And I got word you spent some time in Okoboji--"

"Correct, Huck, correct. And I assume you heard where the Cattanooga Cats played Arnolds Park, followed by a jam session at cousin Snaggletooth's retreat on Okoboji."

"Word did reach me about that feline folk-rock fest, I admit."

"And believe you me, the Cattanooga Cats did NOT--repeat, did NOT, disappoint!"

"So I heard."