Traveler

Traveler

Monday, August 1, 2011

1 August - The 10 Passageway

Enduring a lengthy ordeal to obtain Jeep from the Impound Lot, our band decided to sleep the night and begin our journey at dawn the next morn.  We would continue our travels through the 10 Passageway out of the Los Angeles settlement of the Spanish Territory.  This was to be an unanticipated misstep.

With Clark at the wheel, our band began on our way.  I sat beside him while Jean Baptise and family occupied the rear seating.  Little Pomp, with the bright eyes only a five year-old can muster, leaned across his mother to watch the quickness of the land as we passed by.  Unfortunately, I was ineptly prepared for such travel and found myself ill.

We followed an upward trail with signage guiding us to the 10 Passageway East.  It was here my nausea was halted, as were the other horseless wagons about us.  Indeed, it appeared no carriage was advancing forward at all.  Little Pomp pouted as Clark's anger began to rise.  But what were we to do?  None of our group had ever experienced a trail with so many other travelers.  Sacagawea suggested the Spanish citizens were fleeing the Territory.  Although we had seen prosperity, mayhaps a war brewed within the hearts of the Spanish.  Regardless, our band was unwittingly in the middle of the refugees' exodus.  Sacagawea then suggested we should proceed to breakfast.  We had intended to do so after subsequent distance were gained between ourselves and the Los Angeles township, but now appeared to be an opportune moment.

Our band dismounted Jeep and Sacagawea laid out a blanket between ourselves and the nearby horseless wagon, ironically named for the wild horse, Mustang.  The individual inside was a well dressed, clean shaven man who watched us with wonderment as we sat and began our meal.  After some time, he opened the door and stood beside us.  He said we had the "right idea" as this "SIG alert" (we did not know his terminology, but he carried on before we could ask for an English translation).  Randall, as he introduced himself, said the "SIG Alert" was not appearing to allow any vehicles through.  Sacagawea invited the Randall to join us.  He reached into his Mustang and pulled out a cup and a small pastry, promptly seating himself directly beside Little Pomp, who quickly sat upon Randall's lap.  We enjoyed pleasant conversation and learned the man worked for "Paramount."  I had never heard the word used as a noun, but clearly Randall worked at a place of great importance.

Soon the horseless wagons about us began to crawl forward.  Randall thanked us for our hospitality and offered Clark a small piece of paper with Randall's information typeset upon it.  He reached one last time into Mustang and gave Little Pomp a medal on a ring with the word "Paramount" upon it, surrounded by an image of a mountain.  Finally the name made sense!  He was a mountain climber!  This endeared Randall to Clark immediately.

Our band returned to the interior of Jeep and joined the other wagons as we all began slowly moving forward.  All of us pondering if the "SIG alert" had to do with refugees or no.

Until Later, My Friends

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