Apparently, a rather sizeable portion of North Carolina real estate abruptly gave up its quest to resist gravity and planted itself firmly in the middle of I-40 Eastbound. While I'm happy that it didn't wait for our arrival at that very moment to effect its relocation, I'm still not especially pleased with the resultant 100+ mile detour.
Wait - do we get bonus miles for rock slides? Hmm.
Caleb, we're driving through Johnson City. Now think for just a moment how much smaller your tuition bills would be if you'd taken that scholarship instead of going to FU. I know. It hurts. Sorry, honey, I succumbed to a mommy moment.
Hoss is thrilled that he now has two - count 'em! TWO! - NASCAR track sightings in just a week. Gateway, in St. Louis, of course, which was cold, barren, and in not such a lovely part of town. And just today, he saw the Actual Physical Interstate Exit for Bristol. I know all you fellow racing fans will understand why he can hardly contain himself.
We stopped at a Cracker Barrel in Fugglesville or Buckfart or somesuch Appalachian Cosmo inspired moniker for lunch. I had the chicken fried chicken, with mashed, green beans, and carrots. Cracker Barrel produces the best tasting burps. Oh, c'mon! As if you've never had such thoughts yourself. Sheesh.
Well, we haven't even finished the detour, let alone gotten close to our drop site, and another load offer came over that takes us back to Central Indiana. With Helga needing a DOT inspection by Saturday and Hoss needing a BP inspection with his doc ASAP, this load will severely restrict our time slot to arrange a load back to NY. Eh, what the hell. Let's do her. :)