Things I Do Because I'm a Moron IX

The temperature last night was 35 degrees below zero.

The Colonel, who is a moron, decided to visit the Northern-Most McDonald's in the lower 48 United States.

Here, an alert manager demonstrates the frigid temps by tossing a cup of water out the Drive-thru window. What you are seeing is the water crystallizing in mid air. It was pretty cool.

While in Baudette, the Colonel stays at the beloved "Walleye Inn". Long-time readers of this feature will remember it as a facility that politely asks its guests not to clean their fish or run their ice augers in their actual rooms.

I seriously love this place.

It was on the drive up in this sub-zero weather that the Colonel logged yet another adventure in the Moron chronicles.

After previously swinging by another fine restaurant location for a Large Non-Fat Latte, I was mentally, emotionally, and most importantly, physically looking forward to a quick stop at my favorite rest station, about half-way between I-Falls and Baudette.

It's just a little shack by the side of the road, but it's always plowed out, relatively clean, and very conveniently located.

Imagine my disappointment as I rounded the corner and saw only an empty field covered with snow.

"Oh, no! They tore it down! what am I going to do?"

You have to understand, I really REALLY wanted to stop, like, right at that moment.

So, I pulled the Vibe over, and (I am not making this up) trudged through three feet of snow to a small stand of trees.

Feeling much colder, but strangely better, I then struggled uphill, back through the waist-high powder.

The Colonel was seriously exhausted by the time he reached his vehicle. Holding frozen hands over the heater, I continued to mourn the loss of a very important comfort station.

"How could they tear it down? Don't they realize how long this stretch is? How desolate? Are these the kind of random acts of government we can expect in BOA?"

I started the car and pulled back onto the highway, still fuming over MNDOT's lack of consideration for my biological comfort.

Rounding a corner fifty yards further, I saw the rest stop, complete with a plowed out parking lot, right where it had always been.