We were all of one accord in front of the road closed sign. Ten miles later, not so much, our Waterloo was the small town of Perrysville Ohio which sits near the intersection of OH-39, and OH-95. I was too tired to continue to lead, so I ended up as the caboose when we left. We were diligently following the OH-97 detour signs until we entered Perrysville, a town of less than 800 which is six streets wide and fourteen streets long. The hangup was that they had just finished putting out detour signs all through town to clear a route for Tuesday morning's Parade. The competing detour signs turned us all around and it felt like we covered five miles and about twenty turns to get from one end of town to the other.

Perfectly situated at the intersection of the two Ohio byways was a Marathon gas station, which featured two entryways from each road, two separate islands of gas pumps and a strategically located convenience store turned at just the right angle to handle traffic from both directions. Everyone pulled up to a pump except me. I always plan to be as close to empty as I can when I arrive at the track, and based on my first stop, I felt I could make it.

As soon as Boone shut the Duster off, he ran over to the Belvedere to tell Rachael how many times she had screwed up coming through town, and which way she should have done it. She was tired, and in no mood for his complaining so she lit into him, followed shortly by Dad. We had a full blown yelling and pointing argument going in the parking lot, with early morning commuters looking around like a bomb had went off. Dale casually pulled himself out of the Gremlin and started pumping fuel as if nothing was going on. I followed his lead and made my way to the C-store for another 24 ounce coffee/hot cocoa mix.
When I came out they were still at it, and I determined if someone didn't intervene they were probably going to drive back to the other end of town just to prove each other wrong.

"I don't really care where we've been, I just want to know if we can get from this station to the second checkpoint!"
The combatants exchanged a few more barbs and unpleasantries until I made it clear that all I wanted to know was if we were taking OH-95 to the left, or continuing straight on OH-39. Then I explained to Rachael exactly how many gallons of gas I wanted in the Belvedere, so she could arrive at Norwalk with only a few left in the tank. I retired to the driver's seat of the Valiant, and closed my eyes until I heard them all fire up to leave, then I followed them out onto OH-95 which would take us to OH-97, and the comfort of being back on the route sheet. Ten miles, in an hour and fifteen minutes...wonderful.