I’m sitting in Casey’s General Store (gas station, etc.) in Grain Valley, MO for the second time in an hour. I got stuck in a 5 mile traffic jam (road construction) and I ran out of gas.
My observation is that Grain Valley has a lot of grain and not much valley — but is home to a wonderful woman named Kate who, while returning from her neighbor’s funeral, stopped and gave me a ride two miles to a gas station (Casey’s). Kate steadfastly refused the $20 I tried to give her for her inconvenience.
Casey’s doesn’t sell gas cans. So, I bought a jug of windshield washer, emptied into the sink, blew out the inside with the hand dryer in the men’s room, filled it with premium and walked two miles back along the interstate to slake the thirst of my stricken machine.
And back to Casey’s to fill ‘er up the rest of the way.
Long story behind running out of gas. That’s for another day. Right now, I tip my helmet to Kate and hit the road again.