Sam's place

Saturday, October 13th, 2012 9:30AM

Man Vs Non-Fiction, coming to you live from the rainy confines of Hannibal, Missouri. I'm sitting here looking out my window at a great view of the Mississippi River, the American Queen floating lazily as the tourists are just starting to emerge from their free hot breakfasts. The Mark Twain Dinette is bustling and all the souvenir shops are opening their doors, promising unique treasures and hoping to make some profits on a dreary October weekend.

The sky eventually cleared up, giving way to a beautiful day by the Mississippi River

Being from Central Missouri, Hannibal was a easy getaway weekend for my family. We came here often and most of memories of Hannibal are of rock candy, gimmicky toys, cave exploring, and riverboat tours. However, Hannibal holds another special place in my heart, and not in a good way. It was here, so many years ago, that a chubby boy scout and his father embarked on a 10 mile hike that wove between the woody campgrounds around the city, and the historic downtown stomping grounds of Sam Clemens himself. It was awful. 10 miles of hills, highway shoulders, heavy panting, and having my father keep reminding me that there was 'just a little bit of woods' to go.

I learned a lot in boy scouts: leadership skills, friendship, camping techniques, snipe hunting, my much-relied-upon fire building skills, and most importantly, I learned that my flat feet and less-than-stellar aerobic fitness made me ill suited for a 10 mile hike.

But all that is behind me. This weekend is all about relaxing and celebrating my wife and I's 3rd wedding anniversary. The combination of rain and a sleepy little 6-month-old has led to my wife and I lounging and reading. Me, with my video game critiquing book, Extra Lives by Tom Bissell, and my wife's selection of The Jester by James Patterson.

It was incredibly relaxing to sit back and read, a feeling I hope to reconstruct once we get back home. With our batteries completely re-charged we tackled Hannibal in all it's touristy glory. Though I didn't see one shop that had rock candy . . .