Left at 8 am.
Grabbed US cash at $99 on the hundred.
Picked up @ tederick.
Grabbed an oatmeal at timmys, got on the road.
Made my only wrong turn of the day less than 15 minutes from the house.
Crossed the border at Fort Erie, waiting patiently as the guard took a Winnebago apart like a jigsaw puzzle in front of us.
Took the 90, drove clean through New York and Pennsylvania without stopping. We recorded our first ever Mamo from a moving car, and then grabbed gas and free wifi at the McDonalds next door.
Headed south before Cleveland. Made it to Woody’s Root Beer Stand, in Canton across the road from the NFL Hall of Fame.
Drank a fresh root beer from a frosty mug that was so good it might have changed my life. Also had some pretty fucking good onion rings, and something called a creamy chicken sandwich. Different, but a bit of all right and I’m glad I partook.
1 hour and 45 minutes south along the highway we passed what might be the only other Dutch Pantry in America besides the one I found last year. I filed the location in the back of my brain for later use.
The minute I saw the cop, I knew I was cold busted. I wasn’t killing it by any means, but 7 hours of velocitization combined with some gently rolling terrain and I was doing 80 mph in a 65 zone, about 120 clicks in our language. I was slowed down before the lights even came on. Up comes the state trooper in the hat with little silver tassels around the brim. He asks where I’m headed, and why. Goes back to the car and decides he’s gonna let me off with a warning and a self deprecating joke about his hat.
The cruise control is in charge of the gas pedal for the rest of the way.
We crossed into our 4th state, West Virginia, about 4pm. Stopped at 6:15 for gas and because we’re hungry. We’re looking for The Tudor’s Biscuit World in downtown Charleston. We’ve already passed signs for 2 other Biscuit World locations off the highway. We stick to the plan and headed for downtown.
Guess what? No Biscuit World. Back in the car, to the shining Best Buy on the rocky outcrop (what is it down here with electronics stores propped up there like beacons for commerce). I borrowed some more wifi, and located another Tudor’s along the way. When we get there, it ain’t there either. Now it’s 7 o’clock. We settled for Hardee’s. A poor mans choice, but if that’s the worst we do all trip I can live with it.
Route 119 south, which eventually turns into 23 south, goes from Charleston, through Pikeville Kentucky, parts of Virginia and down through a tiny piece of Tennessee before landing us in Asheville, NC. It’s also the most fun I’ve ever had driving a car, a feisty collection of hairpins and sheer cliffs that ensures I cannot be sleepy for the last leg of the trip. A couple of times I giggled out loud at the lunacy.
Now we’re into Kansas, and eventually Pikeville. Along the way it’s getting hillier and hillier and we pass the exit for Zebulon. Man, a lot of places are named for that guy. We also see quite a bit of Hatfield and McCoy signage.
Remember when DQ tasted like it was made out of ice cream? Yeah, me neither. But at the Dairy Cheer in Pikeville we sucked down chocolate peanut butter shakes that hit the back of your throat on the way to your soul. I’m starting to understand why everyone down here is so religious; you’d have to be, given the food.
Asheville finally came to us about 1 am, 16 hours after I left the house this morning. I’m in my log cabin now, getting ready for sleep. It won’t be too long in coming, and tomorrow there’ll be action movies, friends and stories of the road.
