A short drive north on The River Road, with some neat rural scenes and an occasional glimpse of the broad Mississippi, we arrived in Hannibal, boyhood home of Mark Twain.
We had visited here a few years ago and it was fun to drive around the small historic district and reminisce.
After driving twenty minutes on dirt roads, we arrived at the public golf course, which looked surprisingly nice considering we were in the backwoods somewhere, only our GPS knew where..
The greens were in great condition, but the first nine holes were fairly new and a bit boring. The back nine was older and had lots of trees (unfortunately for a few of Jack's drives) and personality.
Have you noticed yet that I have not mentioned how we scored? Unfortunately, the humidity began to build and by the time we finished at 3pm, thunderstorms were threatening. Right during my backswing on #16, a series of three huge booms exploded. At first, I thought it was the beginning of big thunderclap, but it was a lot louder and deeper. When we returned to the clubhouse, Jack found it had been a sonic boom and its accompanying echoes, made by a jet.
We stayed in a nice state park with a campsite on a small lake a half hour north of Hannibal in a small town called La Grange. It is a pretty spot with cottonwood puffs drifting about and mama and papa geese strutting about with their little ones in tow.
Score? What score?
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