As I was walking this morning, I came to the bridge that spans Peach Creek, and I decided I’d take a couple of photos and share them and this story with you. I’m thinking my old pal, Dan Findley, might have spent some time in Texas.
Peach Creek Bridge – Hwy 6, south of College Station, TX
In my story, Mooooooo, I told y’all about the time I drove down into the dry wash in Arlington, Arizona—doing about 75—and there was a herd of cows in the road. Well, a few years later, while living in Sacramento, California, I was telling the story to Dan.
As he listened intently to my cow-dodging story, his eyes began to widen. He kept nodding his head excitedly and, when I was finished, he shook his head side-to-side slowly and whistled real low. “Wow!” he said.
He leaned in closer to me and said, “So, what happens when the dry washes fill up with water?”
Peach Creek when it hasn’t rained for several days.
I shrugged. “You can’t get where you want to go.”
Dan kind of gazed off into nowhere for a few seconds, then he grinned.
Leaning toward me again, he said, “I’m gonna move to Arizona and make a fortune!”
I said, “Okay. How you gonna make this fortune?”
He leaned even closer and whispered, “Up here in California, we got this miracle invention. It’s called a bridge.”
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[…] a story yesterday, “Dan Was Here!”, I showed a picture of tiny Peach Creek just south of College Station, Texas. A bit further down […]