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DATE: June 13, 2002 High Temperature: 100 Low Temperature: 80 Meat intake: Pork (that's it) Source material: Eat Your Way Across America, emails from Tom Welsh & Ed Ward, Lonely Planet: USA. Miles covered: 700
D'oh! If you're paying attention to the little stats up above, you'll know I was doomed to get a ticket today. Too many miles to cover without getting pulled over. We made it all the way to 100 miles short of Savannah before getting pulled over. Master Officer Nasworthy clocked me at 92. I pleaded that I lost track of the speed because I was listening to a particularly good book on tape. He did not budge. He didn't even ask what book ("The Family," by Mario Puzo, if you're interested). Maybe he's not much for reading. Or maybe he's heard every book on tape. He has been on the Atlanta State Police force since 1978. The pisser is I don't even know what the fine is. I have to call some handwritten number to find out.
Anyway, back to the beginning. We started the day where we ended the previous night. Isn't that always the case? I was a little tired from staying up late to finish up the previous two days. John had tried to stay up and watch some World Cup Soccer (Brazil: 5, Costa Rica: 2), but fell asleep. Anyway, he got up in the morning to go for a run. I slept. It was really steamy outside. When he got back, I woke up. Turns out we had to check out within 15 minutes and the owners of the hotel wouldn't let us be a little late without charging us another day. I don't think an "American Owned" hotel would've been as stern. If you read On The Road with Max & JT, you know that I've had run-ins with non-American Owned hotels before.
I got ready really fast and put all my stuff on the sidewalk in front. Then went to the front desk to plead with the manager to let me shave. I think my facial hair offended him, because he relented.
We then took the coastal route for the first 30, or so, miles to get back on the 10. Quite lovely. If any of you have seen Ruby in Paradise or Mississippi Masala, you know what I'm talking about. I bet there are some good wet T-shirt contests in these here parts.
Once on the 10 we made some time. Our first stop was at Dick Russel's BBQ just short of Mobile, AL. We felt it was time to get back on that meat bicycle we had fallen off of earlier in the trip. Dick Russel's was more of a celebration of Southern dining than a BBQ joint, but the meat was still good and tender. Not up to Cooper's standards, but good. One woman found the food to be so good, she passed out in her food. I thought she was dead, but it turned out she was just tired. Tired from eating too much tender meat, I assume. I commented that I couldn't have asked for better or friendlier service and that it sure is nice to be white in the South. John grinned, but declined to comment further.
Satisfied once again, we got back on the road, for we had some miles to cover. We listened to the new Eminem CD that I had bought in Austin. I imagine that his producers felt there was not enough misogyny in the first album and could he please be sure there was enough in this one. Boy, howdy. For hours we just drove and drove and drove. We got off the main road in Montgomery, Alabama and took Route 80 toward Tuskegee. Tuskegee is home to Booker T. Washington, George Washington Carver and Lionel Ritchie - three great men who have given so much to our society (higher education, 300 uses for peanuts, 'easy like Sunday morning'). Obviously this was a town we needed to see. We were hoping to find an ice cream shop, but failed to find one.
We continued on and took some rather rural roads on through Alabama. Rural roads in Alabama are always a fun thing. Alabama is not the most cosmopolitan of places in its populated areas. Rural Alabama is odd to say the least. We stopped for gas and directions Phenix, AL. They weren't really sure about how to get to much of anywhere beyond their shack out back. John commented that they were 2 of the dumbest people he'd ever spoken to. A man with the biggest ass I've ever seen gave a toothless smile and said hello. He was buying some ice cream. In his defense, I, too, was buying ice cream. Will this be my fate?
Soon after our failure to get directions, we crossed over into Georgia. We made a stop at The Peachtree Cafe (a division of the Lane Packing Company) for some homemade ice cream. Peach ice cream for John. A strawberry shake for me. If you're keeping track, you'll notice that this is two servings of ice cream in a short period. Maybe my ass is on its way to becoming really large. The shake? I have 2 words: Yu Mee.
After our stop, we really needed to cover some ground. One thing we had failed to calculate into our day's itinerary was that we were going to pass through our third and final time zone. Our 10-hour drive now became an 11-hour drive. Maybe officer Nasworthy would've been more compassionate had I told him that we had traveled ahead in time. That we came from the past. Yes it was only an hour in the past. But we're talking time travel here. That's gotta count for something. Oh, well. Maybe I'll go back to Georgia for a court hearing and plead not guilty because I'm from the past. Yeah, that's what I'll do.
About 90 minutes after I got the ticket, we made it to Savannah. Lindsay, who we stayed with, lives on Skidaway Island - a gated community just outside Savannah. Golf? Then you might want to visit Lindsay. They have 4 golf courses on the island. Lindsay fed us cheese, crackers and Bud Lights. We stayed up talking and drinking, with cheese breaks in between, until about 2:30. We then retired for the evening. Before going to sleep, I removed a small frog from Lindsay's room. She had mentioned that there is a lot of wildlife in the area. I didn't realize how close it was.
Good Night!
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