It Takes A Team

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Wagonteamster

WAGONTEAMSTER .COM

10/6/10, Grand Rapids, MI - On Saturday, 10/2, I flew into Indianapolis. During the next couple of days, my friends Dave and Marti Caldwell wined and dined me while I went about finishing up a few chores and packing up the truck. Dave was pretty good about keeping the truck in good shape during a year in storage. I only had to replace one brake line to get her ready for the road. 

I first met Dave and Marti a couple of years ago, when I was traveling south from New Hampshire; ever since, they’ve been great friends.  When Marti and I first met, it was on the side of the road, during a TV interview from a local Indianapolis Channel. When she invited me to change direction and head for their farm, neither of us would guess that the TV interview would be picked up by CNN, and Marti would achieve her 15 seconds of fame!

After the accident, they invited me to come to Indiana, and stay in their deluxe apartment that was attached to their barn, while I rebuilt and got back on the road.  Ever since, they have been fantastic friends and hosts, and I could never thank them enough. So, it was with a sad heart that I bid them adieu and drove off Monday.  But, I did promise them that sometime in the future, a team of burly horses would pull a battered wagon into the yard; and some uncouth teamster would subject them to a barrage of course jokes.

In Michigan, I’ve had a great time visiting family and friends.  I’ve managed to spend quite a bit of time with both of my parents. Last night, I had a great dinner with Denise, my wonderful companion for the first three months of Trip #3.

There’s an interesting story associated with the man in the picture below. In 1960, Don had just opened up a barber shop with his partner Neil. At that time, Don had the distinction of providing the Wagonteamster with his first haircut. Over the next few years, the sequence for a Saturday morning went as followed:  While my dad was waiting for Neil to give him his flattop, and I was waiting for Don to give me my crewcut, I would get a 10 cent root beer from the soda machine.  Then, one of the barbers would hand me the latest edition of Playboy magazine to keep me occupied. (I think it was quite some time before I figured out which side was up on the magazine). After our haircuts, we drove down to the corner bar, where I would get another root beer, and my old man would get a glass of the real thing. After that, it was back to the house to pick up my three sisters, so we could all spend our quarter allowance on penny candy at Shippy’s Drug Store. (I would try to get the biggest bag by pigging out on the 2 for a penny candy).

Today, Don gave me another haircut.  The big differences:  my hair is now more gray than Don’s, the haircut didn’t cost a Quarter, Shippy’s is out of business, the soda machine where you slide the bottles was gone, and I didn’t automatically get a Playboy, so I don’t know if it was under the counter or not.

America in the 1960’s was a pretty cool place!