{"id":9810,"date":"2013-06-13T22:00:08","date_gmt":"2013-06-14T02:00:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/?p=9810"},"modified":"2024-12-04T17:53:30","modified_gmt":"2024-12-04T22:53:30","slug":"itsy-bitsy-spider","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/?p=9810","title":{"rendered":"Itsy Bitsy Spider"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"13<\/a>Linda Burton posting from Lincoln, Nebraska <\/i>\u2013 Which frightens you most \u2013 spiders or lightning? For me it has always been lightning, like the stuff that welcomed me to Nebraska today in a frenzy of white slashing black over the green prairie to the west. Could I outrun the storm? It was moving west to east; I was traveling south to north; it was a futile contest; I lost. I\u2019ve never seen much lightning before, as I tend to head for cover at the sound of the first thunderclap. Today I had no choice but to look. I had to keep my eyes on the road and sky; there was no place to stop; only open prairie. \"13<\/a>By sheer force nature made me realize just what amazing tricks it can do. Cloud to ground! Cloud to cloud! I counted more than a hundred streaks before the storm engulfed me with rain and then I couldn\u2019t see a thing. Until I reached my hotel and flipped the blinker to signal left. That\u2019s when I saw the spider and forgot the storm. My priorities changed! It was a substantial-looking brown spider, directly above the steering column and crawling down. I grabbed the first thing I could \u2013 a piece of paper with today\u2019s driving directions \u2013 and smashed it against the spider. I missed. The spider fell to my feet. I\u2019d heard tales \"13<\/a>of wrecks caused by insects; although the storm raged around me and traffic whizzed by on either side, my basic instinct was to jump out of the car. But I didn\u2019t. I made it into the hotel parking lot and got the cats and myself\u00a0 inside out of the storm, where I immediately began to read up on spiders. Because after all, that healthy brown arachnid was still in my car. <\/p>\n

\"13<\/a>What happened to my lovely day? In Topeka this morning I loaded the car before the sun got too high and then wandered through the hotel saying goodbyes to the staff. Out front there was a flurry of picture-taking as Sheryl and Chuck brought me bottles of water (one for me and one for the cats) and studied the map to see where the Journey<\/i> would take me next; we\u2019ll follow you on your blog, they promised. Onto I-70 West and the first section of Interstate opened in the country, still in good shape; through the Flint Hills, where \"13<\/a>bales of fresh-cut alfalfa already dotted the landscape. Exit 313 north to Manhattan, across the Kansas River at the edge of the city, and the Kansas State campus; on to Marysville and the first \"13<\/a>stop. Brenda was on duty in the Chamber of Commerce Visitor Center; a walking encyclopedia of facts about Marysville, a historic town with brick-paved streets. It\u2019s nicknamed the City of Black Squirrels (no kidding, one of only two places in the \"13<\/a>country where the squirrels are black!); it\u2019s the home of the very first Pony Express station on the route from Missouri. The original building still stands; it\u2019s the only one left in the country. I parked the car in a shady spot and briefly toured the Museum of the Pony Express, the mail delivery business that ended with the advent of trains, the new horses of the prairie.<\/p>\n

\"13<\/a>Two stops on Hwy 77 for road construction with long waits for the pilot car; I sat in the midst of sweet-smelling prairie grasses with the windows down. Windows went back up as we were led past the paving machines, where the odor of steaming asphalt was so overpowering it made Jack Cat growl; that throaty warning designed to scare away the enemy. Then Nebraska, and \u201c\u2026the good life\u201d, according to the big green welcome sign, which pictured the high-rise state \"13<\/a>capitol against the background of a brilliant sun. Behind the sign, a barn, a silo, more growing fields, and gathering clouds. Which brings me back to the beginning of the story — a Nebraska lightning show. Lightning may be more visible in Nebraska due to the wide-open spaces, but Nebraska doesn\u2019t even rank in the top 10 in lightning fatalities; the leader there is Florida, the Lightning Capital of the US; followed by Michigan, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, New York, Ohio, Texas, Tennessee, Georgia, and Colorado.<\/p>\n

So far this year, there have been seven deaths caused by lightning; two in Florida (fishing on the lake and walking on the beach); two in Illinois (fishing on the river and standing in the park); and one each in Missouri, Louisiana, and Texas (front yard under trees, in boat on lake, outside restaurant). There\u2019s definitely a pattern here and the National Weather Service reminds us every \"13<\/a>time a storm approaches: go inside! That\u2019s always been my action of choice. I did my weather research before starting today\u2019s trip; nothing severe had been predicted. One thing to remember about thunderstorms (out of which deadly tornadoes form) is their tendency to build with the day\u2019s heat, so traveling early in the day is best in summer.<\/p>\n

Three myths and facts from the National Weather Service.<\/p>\n