Day 542: Gnaw Bone

Ask someone who has never been to Indiana about the state, and you’re likely to get a variety of opinions. Those who live on either coast in the United States view it as being somewhere in “flyover land.” In Paris, at least some of the French see it as “Indian country,” and there is a restaurant chain called “Indiana” that features Tex-Mex food, which the French seem to associate with Indians. Others who view it as flat Midwestern farmland would be surprised to learn that the southern Indiana is rustic and quite scenic.

Laetitia and her group began the day with a ride on the French Lick Scenic Railway and spent the rest of the day hiking and bird watching in Hoosier National Forest. That afternoon they reached their destination for the evening, Gnaw Bone, Indiana. The town’s unusual name appears to be a corruption of its original French name, Narbonne. Gnaw Bone is the home of Dances with Dirt, which sponsors rugged foot races. It also claims to be “The Flea Market Capital of the World.” Most of Laetitia’s guests were neither ultra-marathon nor flea market types. Laetitia had chosen Gnaw Bone because of its proximity to Brown County State Park, where they planned to hike the next day.

The converse of the old proverb, “It’s an ill wind that blows no good” is “It’s a good wind that blows no ill.” So it is that advances in new technology may prove to be a bane as well as a boon. This was the gist of a conversation at a table of several young men Laetitia overheard at happy hour. She distilled into the limerick of the day from the complaint of one of them who had just moved with his wife to Gnaw Bone from El Cajon, California.

A young wife from the town of Gnaw Bone
Talks incessantly on her cell phone
And does her husband vex
When she gabs during sex
With a friend who’s back in El Cajon.