River Crossing

Every great journey comes upon a momentous event of some sort. A fork in the road, an abrupt end of pavement, a hill to surmount, a gatekeeper with riddles.

Or, as in my case, the road stops at the shores of a mighty river called the Ohio. One side is Kentucky, the other Illinois.

A small barge with a ferryman glides across the swift and deep waters, back and forth all the day long -- ever ready and willing to transport travelers and their vehicles from one side to the other.

The short hop takes no more than 10 minutes. As the shore on the Illinois side gets closer to the point named Cave in the Rock, the rocking of the waves and the the smell of the blue water is pure magic that's burned into the pages of the story of my journey. A journey well taken and one the better for the experience.