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| Our backyard in Blue Ridge, 12/01/08 |
Ok, it wasn't a vacation or anything fun and exciting. Sweetie Pie and a buddy had been helping a guy, I'll call him Chuck (not his real name) move to Oregon from Atlanta. Sweetie had already made two cross-country trips, driving trucks to move him. One trip they flew back, the second they drove a motorhome back. Sweetie warned me that it was work, hard work, up at dawn, driving all day, and repeat it for the next four or so days. I was still excited about going.
Chuck and his wife had driven the motorhome from Atlanta to Oregon to move their pets, two elderly dogs and several cats. Sweetie and his buddy drove a big Budget truck with their furniture. That was the second trip. Each time they had gone the Northern route and I heard how beautiful the countryside was.
On the first trip, they drove through mountains, looking down on fields of sunflowers in the valleys. The second trip the mountain tops had snow. That is why we were going the Southern route. And this time, I was the tag-along, extra driver (I am a good truck driver).
So we climb into the cab of the huge Budget rental truck, in several inches of snow. My suitcase was squeezed on the back of the truck and my carry-on full of books, cross-word puzzles, maps, and snacks, plus my pillow, my heavy coat, gloves, scarf, hat, and what have you were shoved on my side of the cab. Oh, and we had a small cooler for refreshments between us (I used it as an arm rest). I do not travel light. Sorry.
Chuck was driving his truck, pulling a small enclosed trailer and we are following him. Our first stop was in Montgomery, Alabama to pick up some furniture he had in an antique mall there. Of course, I found some things to buy. I had to do my Christmas shopping! So my small box of things were crammed into the back of Chuck's truck while the two guys grumbled about my shopping. Get over it, please, we still have a week or so to go.
We spent the night in Montgomery at a Drury Inn. I don't want a big breakfast, but at the Drury, it is included. Sweetie and I usually stay in more modest accommodations when we travel and are lucky to get a muffin in plastic wrap for breakfast. This was a deluxe breakfast buffet and I swear to you, the very best scrambled eggs I have ever eaten were on that buffet. They were fluffy and light and seasoned just right. Yummy! Note: I have just started eating scrambled eggs in the last few years. Most of my life, I did not eat any kind of cooked eggs, scrambled, fried, omelet, whatever. Anyway, these scrambled eggs were divine. I had to find out what the cook did to make these so delicious. I found the cook in the kitchen, ignoring the employee's only sign, and asked her. She would not tell me. I begged and pleaded, in my best charmingly way. No luck. She followed me out to the dining area and watched me heap another helping of scrambled eggs on my plate. I gave it my best, I won't ever tell another living soul, spiel as I daintily shoveled the eggs into my mouth. I complimented her cooking ability. I really laid it on thick. I made Sweetie and Chuck get third helpings. Nothing worked. Oh well. Some mornings I still dream about those scrambled eggs...
The Southern route that we took, Interstate 20, is not very exciting, but I was thrilled as we passed from Alabama to Mississippi to Louisiana. I had never driven through Louisiana, so that was a first for me. Plus I got them to stop before we crossed the Mississippi River, so I could sight-see. They gave me five minutes. It was muddy that day.
By day three we were still crossing Texas. We hit Dallas-Fort Worth at rush hour and Sweetie made me drive that portion. It felt like we were in Atlanta traffic. We stopped in Abilene that night and found a really good Tex-Mex restaurant that served late. We were back on the road early the next morning.
To be continued...
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