Wrapped up my last meeting at 3:00pm, got some directions and headed out - to discover a little snow blowing...beautiful, just before Christmas. Being the good southerner, I'm inclined to drive in the snow in my 4WD pickup, but this week, we're in the company "clown" car...tiny but reliable, thank goodness. Dusting off the snow, I headed out 11/15 to the hotel to change...and found out Yankees can't drive in the snow any better than us. Facing a several mile backup caused by construction and god knows what else (since there was a snow glaze on the road), I made a little side jog through the local country club. I'm also thankful for my GPS, although it's getting a little cranky.
Got out on the highway finally - along with all the trucks - headed north on 81. Beginning to wonder who names these little towns - Shartlesville, Upper Tulpehocken, Swatara, Lickdale, Linglestown...at least we name ours in the south after easily pronounceable names. At least I'd have a hard time tell AAA where I was...and I won't forget the pitstop at the truck stop - for god's sake, don't touch anything...but I finally made it to PA 61, where my GPS got totally confused by a revised interchange. No worries - the Cabela's store was clearly visibly from outer space.
You have to understand, we rednecks love our toys...heck, we build these great shrines to them. Bass Pro Shops - love em...Gander Mountain, always have some unique stuff...but Cabelas...
Somebody had us rednecks in mind while I was taking the winding driveway round to the mount, where the long driveway lead to a huge bronze statue at the front door - a trapper and indian in a canoe, a massive beacon that clearly shouts, "you can spend lots of money and be us...". after luckily finding a spot in the 50,000 space, 20 acre parking lot, I entered the facility...along with a thousand other rednecks of all breeds. What made it really funny was that we're all on redneck Christmas hunting safaris...and Cabela's didn't let me down. Pausing briefly at the t-shirt gallery (funny how they all beckon rednecks as souvenirs to say, I blew a grand here), I move to the camo section.
You have to understand - camo isn't clothing, it's a way of life. And you could have several of them here, half the main floor was covered with camo for all walks of life - heavy coats, pants, shoes, hats, gloves - and in the ladies section, "delicates" that screamed "you can't see me!" Moving across the aisle to the fishing section (and marveling at the thousands of lures with names like "baby cowbell" and "hunker lunker"), found a few interesting pieces of underwater art - and made my investment.



Walking out through the restaurant and decided to decline the elk meat dinner, I decided I didn't have enough money to stay here much longer. I started the long trek across the half mile store to the checkout stand (no, I didn't buy the camo lighter or "who farted" camo hat). I bought my "souvenirs" and Christmas presents (even got one for the wife - she can't stand the stuff in these places, so I hope my choice isn't too misguided). I've learned a few things from my journey:
- Rednecks are keeping the economy running, as witnessed by the massive crowds;
- Yankees got rednecks, too;
- You really can get lost in a camo section and no one will find you;
- The story of the redneck defense league lives alive and well in the hunting section;
- There's some big daggum deer out there - and even if you take it illegally, it might wind up on a wall or display;
- My inner redneck is alive and well for me to travel 125 miles on a snowy evening to join all my redneck friends - but you won't catch me stocking up on $30 elk sausages and jerky anytime soon...it wouldn't fit in the luggage or make it through airport security...
Guess I'll have to drive up in my truck sometime and bring my clan..they'd have loved this place...BTW - here's the link for the store:
http://www.cabelas.com/stores/store_info.jsp?pageName=009
Have a merry Christmas - and don't forget to buy for the redneck you love! Next stop - the "Hap, Hap, Happiest place on Earth"!
David B.
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