Road Trippin' in the Hoosier State: No one knows what this thing is

The Jug Rock at Shoals, IN, is touted as the largest freestanding something or other table rock formation blah blah blah east of the Mississippi River. It’s a local landmark and the people are proud of it. They’ve gone so far as to make it the high school’s mascot. That’s right, a fifty-foot rock formation is the school’s mascot. Just google “Shoals Jug Rox.” You’ll see.

No one really knows what it is. There’s a crackpot theory floating around it’s the result of millennia of erosion, something to do with hard rock layers surrounded by softer limestone. That’s about as likely as the five minute universe or whatever new creationist theory is floating about out there on the conspiracy tubes.

No, I’m convinced this thing is a wendigo hibernating away the centuries until the next ice age awakens it. At the end of the last glaciation, it must have wandered too far south and became disoriented and groggy in the warmer climate. What we see as some sort of rock formation is merely thirty thousand years of accumulated secretions hardened into a crusty shell. An enterprising individual with a chisel and a mallet could find a very nasty surprise lurking underneath a few feet of fossilized grease.

This sleeping monster is a true calamity in waiting. It lived in a time of unimaginable cold when ice sheets two miles thick covered entire continents. An adult wendigo could chew on a fully grown mammoth in one hand while crushing a score of fire and spear wielding Neolithic tribesmen in the other. As a society, we’re just not prepared for such a walking disaster.

We should strike while the goddamned thing is sleeping. It should be bulldozed, paved over, and turned into a Chuck E. Cheese. At least then it’ll serve some useful purpose.