Weirdo Festival at the Creach

I hope you didn't have plans to attend major events this year!

Coachella: canceled
Burning Man: canceled
SXSW: canceled
Calgary Stampede: canceled
Cannes Film Festival: canceled
Tokyo Olympics: canceled

WHOOPS! Hold on there a minute!

Weirdo Festival at the Creach: Ongoing

Yes, nothing stops a weirdo. The Creach (our creek beach down by the mailboxes) remains a popular destination. Saturday alone boasted a major crowd.

As I left for town, I saw two 4-wheelers parked halfway in the gravel road, by that little waterfall area. I figured it must be some kids out here, exploring. I see 4-wheelers go by our house a lot. Didn't give it another thought.

When I came back from town, I slowed on the blacktop hill, and signaled to pull over by Mailbox Row. Across our low water bridge, I saw a maroon sedan. It, too, slowed as it came down the opposite hill, by the gate where a former Post Office tryst occurred with our rural carrier. I figured they must be wanting to drive up beside the mailboxes, too, and get their mail. I jumped out to fetch mine, and get out of their way.

But no. That maroon sedan inched across the low water bridge, and turned into our gravel road. Slowly it continued, with no confidence. Funny how you can tell that about a car.

It drove past a parked white pickup truck with ALASKAN on the side in gray. No driver. Just an empty truck, parked at the Creach.

The maroon car was just rounding the bend up past the waterfall entrance. It had been slowed even more by the 4-wheeler riders emerging from the Creach. Not exactly kids as I'd thought. Maybe KIDULTS. Mid-to-late 20s. Two couples, with one of the guys wearing the standard Creachware attire of cut-off jeans shorts with boots.

One of the 4-wheelers pulled out in front of T-Hoe, then backed up. To give us more room to get hit head-on while on the wrong side of the narrow gravel road on that blind curve.

Once I started up the next hill, I saw the maroon sedan. It had turned left onto the first offshoot gravel road, just before the Great Chasm (a deep rut where water washes across in a deluge). There it sat, making an awkward U-turn. The driver was a dark-haired lady woman, looking like a cross between a meth head and a rode-hard Courteney Cox. She had a nondescript girl passenger. As I passed, they started back from whence they came.

I need to find a way to make the Creach profitable.