Many years have passed since Barb and I took our three younger girls to Reno, Nevada. One might think taking young teenage girls along would be a drag, a battle royal from the get-go. It wasn’t. They added more pleasure and diversity than I’m prepared to describe.
Along the way, we wanted them to see a roadside artesian well located near the Spanish Springs Dude Ranch in Northern California. Unfortunately, we arrived about two o’clock in the morning. They were sacked out in the back of our VW bus, but we routed them out anyway. Under protest, they climbed out yawning and stretching, mumbling something about what could be so great about a stream of water spattering into the mud.
I was about midway through my explanation when a coyote howled from a distant mountain. What insignificant interest they had vanished in the span of a millisecond and they fled, as one, for the safety of the bus. It was time to motor on.