You know those people that go to visit places where terrible things have happened?
Yeah.
That's not me.
I don't want to feel any bad vibes or see anything icky or even let my imagination run wild when human nature becomes ugly.
So I was pretty surprised when I succumbed to the allure of the dark.
There we were.
Indulging in our new past-time of wasting gas and driving all over Godforsaken Arizona.
This habit started when we got our pick-up truck and now involves one of us saying, "Well, I don't have much to do today...AND we do have a pick-up truck...AND we do have a full tank of gas!"
This statement results in both of us scurrying around...
Me grabbing water bottles and apples and granola bars.
Mr. Jenny grabbing the camera.
AND...
Gentlemen start your engines!
We are off!
Spring in Arizona is glorious.
Desert plants are in bloom.
Sunsets are magnificent.
The dust billowing up behind us smells clean and fresh.
Okay. I made up that part about the dust smelling fresh...but you get the idea.
On this particular trip we had just meandered around on backroads looking for...well...stuff.
Anything of interest.
Cool trees.
Dead trees.
Big trees.
Cool rocks.
Big rocks.
Ummm...
You get the idea!
It was getting dark and we decided it was time to start heading home when it happened.
We saw it.
A small hand-painted sign that had "Satanic Worship Church". The arrow pointed down an even dustier road than we had been on.
We passed the sign.
We looked at each other.
Mr. Jenny stopped and backed up.
And off we went in search of a "Satanic Worship Church", totally unsure what we would do if we found it.
There was not much on the road.
A few abandoned buildings...
and lots and lots and lots of brown long-neck beer bottles sparkling in the almost sunset.
We drove a little further.
We kept looking at each other.
My heart was pounding a little bit...
thump thump thump ....
And then we saw a building on a slight rise in the distance.
As we got closer we could see it was in total disrepair.
I gulped.
Thump, thump, thumpity, thump went my heart.
And put my hand on Mr. Jenny's arm.
"Maybe this isn't a good idea," I said.
Mr. Jenny just kept driving.
As we got even closer we could see a sign by the road but we couldn't read it.
We could see a church bell in silhouette.
"A church bell?" I questioned. "Do Satanic churches have church bells?"
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP!!!!
Mr. Jenny just drove slowly forward.
We stopped in front of the sign.
And then we both started laughing.
In fading letters on a sun-beaten background was painted "Stotonic Church".
STOTONIC...
Not Satanic.
We drove around the building amazed that the church bell was still there.
We got out to take some pictures.
The battery on the camera was dead.
I didn't have my cell phone.
So we poked around a bit and then drove home arriving well after dark.
We were still chuckling over mis-reading the sign.
I looked for pictures on Google and Bing to show you what this funky, falling down place looks like but there were none.
And while I was googling...
I briefly considered searching for 'Satanic churches in rural Arizona'...
and then I resisted the idea.
Because I really didn't want to know...
...and even if I found any I wouldn't want to go.
Yeah...
Being drawn to the dark side
ONCE is enough for me.
thumpthumpthumpthumpthump