My middle sister, Renee (older than me, but not the oldest),is getting married in a couple days! And to commemorate, I'd like to introduce you to my family via a story that makes it kinda shocking she's getting married. Or at least about, who she is marrying.
This is because her future hubby, Mark (with a K, don't get confused), was along with us on this trip.
Then again, the guy pictured here is Mark, so maybe he's the one that we should be shocked is getting married.
Bruce, Marti (that's my parents), Renee, Mark, and I were all on our way down to Iowa for my cousin's graduation party. On this trip, I was honored to be chosen to drive the last leg as we approached Sac City (Claim to Fame: Home of the World's Largest Popcorn Ball). The car was running low on gas but with only 50 miles to go, I thought we would be fine, but then I saw a sign.
The green sign along the county highway pointed to the left and directed to the Sac City Municipal Airport. While Popcorn Ball travel is legitimately a staple of the local economy, I still wondered what good an airport was to a city of 2,100. So, obviously, I took the turn.
I had to catch a glimpse of this airport.
Mark thought this was odd. He knew that we were already just barely going to make it into town on the gas we had. Also, he knew that there was no mileage marked on the sign. The airport could be 500 feet up the road . . . or it could be 20 miles up the road.
I didn't care.
Oddly enough, no one in my family cared either. In fact, when Mark wondered aloud if we should turn back to the main road, the rest of the family unanimously supported my decision to drive off into the corn-filled wilderness.
Things only got weirder from there.
About 3 miles down the road we spotted a little grove of trees and my dad (Bruce) suggested I pull over. He wanted to look for morel mushrooms, a delicious delicacy that grow on dead elm trees. He saw some elms, so "Hey, why not stop on the side of the road and take a family traipse through the woods."
And while we found no 'shrooms, we did discover what to this day my family calls the "Animal Graveyard." It seemed you couldn't go 5 feet without running into some piece of an animal skeleton on the ground. It was awesome.
This whole time, Mark walked around with a look that said, "These people are weird."
But after this, on the mantra of "Nettleton's never quit!" we got back in the car and kept heading for the airport.
After a few more miles, we did find the airport.
Turns out, it just looks like a big field with a concrete strip . . . so, basically what we had been driving through and on for the past 4 hours.
Luckily, most of the drive into town was downhill and through a careful use of coasting and never braking, we idled into the gas station as non-quitters.
This is what we do. We find airports. We visit dead wild animals. We stop at gas stations to count how many varieties of Doritos they sell (often over 10!). We pass our plates at restaurants in order to smell each other's food.
Nettletons never quit!
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