A Big Country

 The first “bridge may freeze before roadway” sign, and I knew we were on our way. We’re not in Florida anymore. (My old marker for a trip was the Thomas B Manuel bridge over the Caloosahatchee. Going over that meant we were heading out of state.) I was sure we weren’t in Florida when the sign said “Left lane closed in 1 mile.”, and everyone immediately moved over to the right lane. Except me. I was thrilled traffic was easy, and I sped on down the highway. At “Left lane closed in 1/2 mile”, I realized I was the only one taking advantage of the open lane. Everyone else had dutifully moved over, and I was passing them by, butting in line. With my memorable red truck, I didn’t have the nerve to go right up to the end of the merger area, so tucked into an open space between two semis. These people would not survive South Florida I-95 traffic. 


Three long days of driving up Florida and Georgia, across Tennessee and Kentucky, touching Illinois, across and up Missouri, kissing Iowa, now up South Dakota, we are ready to turn west and have fun. Days of flat fields are boring. I’m grateful for all the people who grow the miles of soy beans, corn, and other crops we passed. I can’t imagine living in such remote areas. Not even any towns, just huge farms with gigantic silos.



We passed trucks marked “wide load” carrying huge tires which we assumed were for airplanes, although  where these airplanes would be I’m not sure. Eventually we realized the tires were tractor tires. Everything is oversized: tractors, silos, and farms. I feel Lilliputian.

Our plan to eat breakfast at the motel, lunch out, then sandwiches for dinner went well the first day, with down-home cooking at the Pit Stop BBQ and Grill in Tifton, Georgia, and leftovers microwaved at the motel for dinner. Unfortunately, even though its website said it did, there was no breakfast. We made do with a Starbucks coffee and some hard boiled eggs I’d brought. Lunch at Moss’ Southern Cooking in Clarksville. This time we spent a little more on a motel, and the breakfast was as advertised. Throwing money at a problem often fixes it. 


Clara had a slight meltdown and declared she wanted to go home, but a Costco hotdog cheered her up. Cheap gas in so many ways. She has rallied. 

Our travel rule is that we don’t eat at at any chain we can go to at home, but I’m having to be a little flexible to keep peace. Hungry people are unhappy people.


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