Redfield, Kansas, Here I Come! [Part IV of a long-winded story]

 Redfield, Kansas, Here I Come! [Part IV of a long-winded story]

If you have been following along, you know that my travels from Tampa to Kansas should end with this article. Today (in the manner of writing, anyway), I will finally arrive in Redfield, where I will become chaplain for the Filiae Laboris Mariae Sisters. But first, I must finally arrive, and my phone apps have been trying to make it, not impossible, but certainly memorably aggravating. Why would today’s trip be any different?

I opened up the podcast app to pick up Introduction to the Devout Life where I had left off. But of course, this wouldn’t be in the story if it just worked. So you already know it didn’t. Oh, I suppose one could say that it worked fine, if “starting over” was his definition of working fine. But I wanted it to pick up where I left off the day before. What a novel (is there a pun there?) idea! The day before, it had no problem doing that every time I stopped it during rest breaks. But somehow overnight it went back to the beginning, which, if you recall, wasn’t the beginning of the book at all. I sat there looking for a way to determine how far I had gotten in it, but remember, I couldn’t view chapter numbers, and they were all mixed up anyway, so I just guessed that I had made it about halfway through. So I started there. I listened to the LibriVox commercial, heard the first couple of sentences of the chapter, and recognized that I had already heard that part. But how much further in the book had I gotten? If it had been read in order, I probably could have figured it out rather easily. But now I just had to pick another chapter, listen to the commercial, listen to a few sentences, and skip to the next. Then repeat. Over and over. For fifteen or more chapters and a wasted 30 minutes or so, as it turned out... ARRGHH!

Finally finding a chapter that I had not heard before, I set out again. This time, I went back to using Waze just for the heck of it. The rest of the drive, maybe 6 hours long, was just a beautiful drive through farm country. I didn’t know exactly where I was or where I was going, but I kept checking to make sure I was moving in the right direction, and the day passed quickly. I listened to LibriVox commercial, Book 4 Chapter 17, LibriVox commercial, Book 1 Chapter 39, and so forth, until I turned onto a four-lane divided highway heading north. Almost immediately, there were signs pointing west to a city named Girard with the warning: “Highway 7 closed. Follow Detour,” with the detour arrow pointing in the direction I was traveling. I didn’t think much of it at the time.

Many miles later, I came across more signs stating, “Highway 7 closed. Follow Detour.” No problem, thunked I to myself, seeing that my next turn was absolutely NOT Highway 7. No Sir, indeed. My next turn was a left turn onto a very short dirt road that would take me to Highway 7, an important bit of information which I didn’t know at the time! 

[I suppose I should interrupt the story to tell you that I was not heading straight for the convent but rather to Fr. Pillari’s house, where I was to spend the night. I had been at his place when I visited the month before this trip, so I knew how to get from his rectory to the convent, but this time I was coming from a completely different direction than I had been before. I had no idea where his house was from here, for I didn’t even know where “here” was!]

So, as Waze told me to turn left, I pulled into the opening between traffic lanes and, while waiting for a car to pass, read the large sign in the middle of the dirt road blocking passage. “Road Closed. Highway 7 closed. No thru traffic.” Oh, Waze, why did you take me here? I got to thinking about just how far back the last paved road was. 10 miles? How far ahead would the next paved road be? I guessed that it couldn’t be further than that, so I continued northward. Waze kept trying to get me to turn around and take the dirt road. I came to an exit for Highway 7. It was, of course, completely blocked off. Detour signs kept pointing north. 

There was no good place to pull off the road and check the map, so I just kept going and listening to Waze interrupt the audiobook, telling me to make a U-turn at every break in the median. I finally turned off both Waze and the book. It wasn’t long before I made it to Fort Scott, the “Big City” near Redfield. I pulled into a parking lot and turned Waze back on. It couldn’t find any way to Fr. Pillari’s place except for that darned dirt road. So I opened Google Maps. Sure enough, it not only plotted my course but also smarmily told me that this course was bypassing road closures! “Take that, Waze,” she seemed to gleefully announce, knowing that these two electronic ladies were in competition for my attention.

A few miles of gravel roads later, and I had made it.

The end.

What? You want more? Ok, twist my arm, why don't you?

I pulled into Father’s gravel “parking lot” and checked my messages. I had an email from Mother Maria Regina. I hope you don’t mind, but Fr. Richard (their outgoing chaplain) has asked if he could celebrate his last Mass with us tomorrow at 4:30 am before he flies out. We won’t need you to celebrate Mass at 7:30 as scheduled. If that’s OK with you, you could celebrate Mass at Fr. Pillari’s chapel in the morning and then come here at 11:30 for lunch. We will have your room cleaned by then, and a couple of the Sisters can help you unload your car. If I don’t mind? Heck, any priest who wants to celebrate Mass at 4:30 in the morning has my respect. He can do anything he wants!

Fr. Pillari saw me sitting there and came out to greet me. 

And that’s where I’ll leave off today. Check back next week for more drivel like this!