Bourbon and ON.

Reserved.

London, ON – The rolling green hills around Versailles, Kentucky are stitched together by raw boards: braces holding prized racehorses in place.

Appropriately, the endless pastures are the colour of money.

For miles, the grass is stained white by fresh paint. One farm, in all black, stands in contrast, like Johnny Cash.

We cling to tight corners on country roads before pulling through the stone and iron gate at Woodford Reserve. The name is relatively new, but a distillery was first built here in 1812 and the location is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

We’re immediately drowned by fresh cut grass and sweet sour mash.

Oak barrels teeter down tracks between long, thin stone buildings, headed for a rest.

We left booking a tour too late, so the rest of our day looks similar.

Homeward. 

Vitals:

• Time: 9 hours, 20 minutes
• Distance: 779.9 kms
• States/Province: Kentucky, Ohio, Michigan, Ontario
• Weather: Sunny and warm
• Wildlife: None

Good Fry Day.

Where they started lickin' fingers.

Corbin, KY – Hugging the slopes of the Appalachian Mountains, we pull up to a vintage gas station that welcomes us with a white-sided café. The neon outside is quiet this misty morning.

It’s Good Friday, and only a slight detour.

The pumps haven’t worked in years and the café is, of course, not just another forgotten roadside restaurant now. It’s ground zero of a restaurant chain that has grown to offer more than 55,000 locations in 55 countries and territories around the world.

Now, it slings the origin story of Kentucky Fried Chicken.

The once-noble building’s windows are etched with the name “Harland Sanders.” Ever the marketer, Sanders ensured the etchings faced inward, so you’d learn his name as you ate.

The attraction is now predominantly a museum focused on myth-making and brand-building, and it provides models of the Colonel’s hotel rooms, his customary white suit and other memorabilia, including a Harlequin novel where he rescues a damsel in distress, and Crocs pinned with fried drumsticks.

Even the stick figure for the bathroom wears his customary string tie.

But it still sells chicken.

And fries.

Vitals:

• Time: 7.5 hours
• Distance: 470 kms
• States: Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina
• Weather: Rain, cold
• Wildlife: None

De La Soul.

C'est (bour)bon.

Lexington, KY – As the bottom of the rust belt falls out, spring greens pitch tentatively skyward.

Eastern redbuds are sprinkled like confetti in the fog, welcoming the new season and accompanying freedom that floats on the breeze. Between winter and a global pandemic now in its third year, the rebirth hits close to home.

Moving south, Ohio’s skyline becomes an abstract of greys crisscrossed by beams painted ochre and soft blues. Many of the art deco bridges are topped by ornate iron work, whispering to a bygone era.

We hadn’t planned to drive, but studies and life got in the way of fleeting plans and here we are, suddenly on a tour of the bourbon trail and pointed toward Charleston, South Carolina.

A tasting at the modern New Riff Distilling, just over the bridge from Cincinnati, is followed by a stop at Boone County Distilling. I’m driving, so just a sniff and a shot of history.

Boone County, founded in 2015, boasts walls dressed in charred barrel staves, blackened but smooth to the touch. It claims inspiration from a distillery opened in the area in 1833 and uses the tagline “Made by Ghosts.”

“Spirits, Distilled by Spirits” was right there.

C'est (aussi) bon.

The best part of the day, though, has been pulling up to a strip mall in Lexington, looking for dinner. Mimi’s Southern Style Cooking is lined up out the door even though the dining room – which seems to double as a dance hall – sits empty.

There’s no obvious menu, but aluminum catering trays shimmer with fried chicken, mac and cheese, collard greens, green beans, corn bread and various other items. We can immediately tell it’s a road trip gem.

Conspicuous, we’re invited to the front of the line and handed a cafeteria tray.

Everyone else is waiting for the pork chops.

Vitals:

• Time: 11 hours
• Distance: 762 kms
• Province/States: Ontario, Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky
• Weather: Persistent rain, fog and cold
• Wildlife: None

Fin.

The heat got to this place, too.

London, ON – Much of the morning's drive through Kentucky was like climbing into a Bob Ross painting: happy little clouds dancing over green hills.

It helped we were able to make the final push home with leftovers from Memphis's famous Gibson's Tastee Donuts and from The Stillery in Nashville.

It turns out Brussels sprouts are an underrated pizza ingredient.

One province and eight states, including one new one (Arkansas), and a great time in Memphis. Down to four contiguous U.S. states I've yet to visit.

But, the car still smelled of beer.

Vitals:

• Time: 8.5 hours
• Distance: 641.9 kms
• Weather: Sunny and hot (Detroit, the hottest point on the trip: 34.5 degrees), with a brief storm
• States: Kentucky, Ohio, Michigan
• Wildlife: None

The Can Can't.

How hot was it? Hot enough for Nashville Hot Chicken.

Louisville, KY – The first let loose with a crack that shot across the parking lot.
Then, another.

And another.

It's a wonder nobody ducked for cover.

How hot is it? Well, upon opening the trunk in the parking lot of a random Nashville McDonald's, four cans of beer exploded all over me, spinning on the ground in pinwheels of sweet and sticky spray.

We had wondered for several miles about the aluminum clicking sound coming from behind us.

It was as though we had pulled the pins and tossed grenades that soon rolled under the adjacent car. The kid inside must have wondered what was going on.

The car and I reeked like we were on a week-long bender.

Fourth of July fireworks, it seems, had come early.

Vitals:

• Time: 8 hours
• Distance: 641.9 kms
• Weather: Sunny and hot
• States: Tennessee, Kentucky
• Wildlife: None

Beam Me Up.

Not a booze cruise.

Dayton, OH – The rural roads we crossed in central Kentucky this morning were quiet and unlined. Coursing under a canopy of mature trees, they more resembled extended driveways.

Dogs, puffing their chests, nipped at our heels as we roared past barns, streaked red and black, and countless Baptist steeples, bleached white.

For miles, corn sprouted to my knees, while other fields were pin-pricked by bright bales, dried in the sun. And then, apparently, we stumbled upon the Bourbon Trail. Acres of storage sheds for the brown liquor stood tall on the roadside: Maker’s Mark, Heaven’s Hill and Jim Beam.

We took a break to stroll through the Beam homestead and have a quick look at some of the production facilities as the smell of charred white oak and vanilla blended into the boozy humidity. We didn't imbibe: we didn't want our two wheels to begin to appear they were four.

Soon, we crossed a big blue bridge over the Ohio River, leading me to expect to be in its namesake's state. Instead, Indiana.

Cruising along the waterway, we stopped into Rising Sun for lunch. If the name of the town wasn’t enough of a reason to stop, the tasty pulled pork sandwich and conversation with Mark at the Main Street Diner certainly was.

These quirky finds are what make road trips what they are.

Vitals:

•     Time: 9 hours, 30 minutes
•     Distance: 463.7 kms
•     Weather: Sunny, with only a sprinkle of rain
•     States: Kentucky, Indiana, Ohio
•     Wildlife: None

Like a Champ.

So. Many. Churches.

Campbellsville, KY – I floated by a butterfly, and got stung by a bee.

I don’t imagine the insect was thrilled about having slammed itself into my leg at 80 km/hr, leaving me banking through 10 more minutes of curves before I could finally stop to pluck the stinger from my skin.

Wear chaps, you say?

Soon thereafter, we passed a white house nestled into the trees that was notable for vast streams of red that ran down its face. I presume its owners butcher animals on the second-floor porch. At least I hope that's what it was.

It was a bit of an odd stretch of road to say the least.

We had continued our slow return north on Highway 27 after a morning ride on the stunning  Cherohala Skyway into Tennessee. Far less technical than Tail of the Dragon, the 40-mile scenic byway continues to twist and turn and is, in many ways, a more enjoyable ride. Along with rides out of Prestonburg and through Great Smoky National Park, this was a highlight of the trip.

If you like being blanketed in the silence of your own thoughts, meandering streams, trees and vistas that stretch into three-dimensional panoramas, the Cherohala Skyway might be the place for you.

I know it was for me.

Vitals:

• Time: 8 hours, 30 minutes
• Distance: 489.3 kms
• Weather: Sunny, with rain at the end of the day; hot
• States: North Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky
• Wildlife: None

Tame of the Dragon.

Salmon? No, slalom!

Robbinsville, NC – No sign trumpets your arrival.

Instead, you suddenly find yourself in the maw of the dragon.

While we had slalomed across roads in six states already, this was the main event – the ride we were here to challenge. Tail of the Dragon in Deals Gap, North Carolina features 318 curves over 11 miles as you roar over the border into Tennessee. It's trumpeted as the top motorcycle and sports car road in the United States.

It's a technical ride with constant shifting as you swish over roads banked like a bobsleigh track. After two days on the highway, it took a conscious reminder to ride with my feet. No, it's definitely not a time for sightseeing. Instead, I aimed high and tried to not look away out of fear of missing the next curve, which was inevitably imminent. Repeatedly.

Mission: Don't add to the Tree of Shame.

My mind even barely registered the Lamborghini sitting at the crest of one of the hills.

Although the roads were relatively quiet that time of day, light through the trees danced, playing tricks on my eyes as I bent myself into a couple 300-degree turns. Ever present: the unwillingness to contribute to the notorious Tree of Shame.

The day began with a deer, but ended with a dragon, slain.

Twice.

Vitals:

•     Time: 10.5 hours
•     Distance: 569.8 kms
•     Weather: Sunny with fluffy clouds, hot
•     States: Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina
•     Wildlife: Deer

Out of Town.

Great Smoky Mountains National Park, minus the bear.

Pigeon Forge, TN – We began the day careening down Highway 23 – the Country Music Highway, apparently – past tree-lined peaks nestled into low-lying clouds.

I hadn't gone a mile before a sun-kissed fawn crossed the road in front of me. It ambled away with an awkward gait and a stunned look. I'm not sure it knew what to make of the rumble from my engine.

Cedar and eucalyptus provided nature’s cologne, eagerly breathed in. The whole experience through the clouds reminded me of my time in Rwanda. Today offered some of my all-time favourite rides.

All morning, we'd go up, down and around like we were riding a ribbon a young child had awkwardly glued to a page.

Then, stuck in traffic, we were greeted by the neon theme park that is Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, which is set against the vast majesty of Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It's sadly reminiscent of Niagara Falls, Ontario: once a beauty, now faded and overcompensating with too much make-up.

Instead, strip malls showcase 'As seen on TV' stores, countless billboards for commercially made ‘moonshine’ and Dollywood. All of this framed by the towering canopy of trees cascading over winding roads through the park.

I’ll take the latter, thanks.

Oh, Hi, Yo.

Roads, bent like Gumby.

Prestonburg, KY – As we rode into Ohio, the morning chill melted off to aromas of dry pine and campfire. By lunch, which we had enjoyed at a rest stop in Michigan, the temperature had risen from 14 to 30.

And, by mid-afternoon: 40.

But, as we approached Columbus, Ohio, the round, peaty smell of summer rain rose to my nostrils and grey skies turned white with large drops that caromed off the windshield. We didn’t even have time to don our rain riders.

Twenty minutes past the storm, however, it hardly mattered: the hot wind had slapped the moisture from our legs and, again, we sizzled.

We were fortunate to re-find the sun as it dropped with us into the Appalachian Mountains, where rock faces finally unmasked themselves to us.

These are the curves for which the area is so well known.

Vitals:

•   Time: 11 hours, 15 minutes
•   Distance: 845.7 kms
•   Weather: Variably sunny and cloudy, with thunderstorms in Columbus; cool then hot
•   Province/States: Ontario, Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky
•   Wildlife: None

Disembark.

The road is long that carried me from you.

London, ON – Michigan: blah, blah, blah. Ohio: blah, blah, blah.

Kentucky: pretty, but goodbye.

One province, 13 states, 60 hours and 4,567.5 kilometres driven.

(We do this because we'd never see what we do in any other way. Open road, you are a cruel mistress.)

Home.

Vitals:

• Time: 11 hours, 14 minutes (with two hours at the Outlet stores)
• Distance: 751 kms
• Weather: Sunny
• States/Province: Kentucky, Ohio, Michigan, Ontario
• Wildlife: None

The Hills have Eyes. But no Gas.

Yup, there's a chapel up on that hill...

Lexington, KY – When a fisherman, knee-deep in a river, chuckles at you and asks – in his thick, North Carolina drawl – how much fuel you have left, you know you might be in the middle of nowhere.

Especially if he's the only person you've seen in half an hour.

It turns out simply punching “Chapel Hill” into the GPS does not necessarily relate to the hometown of the University of North Carolina.

There is, in fact, quite a difference between the city and a random chapel on a hill. In this case, it was also a difference of 376 kilometres.

Instead, we were smack-dab in the middle of the Smoky Mountains as the fisherman pointed me toward the nearest gas station – 25 miles away.

If we did not take the wrong turn.

The news temporarily put a damper on what had become an all-time, top-five driving day as we twisted and turned through the mountains, 'Riding the Rattler' – 32 miles and 250 sharp turns that made me thankful to be driving a car with a manual transmission.

With sufficient gas to make it, you could only laugh – but we would not end up at the university.

It was, nonetheless, a beautiful day driving through the Smokies, bookended by a fantastic breakfast at Mama's Boy in Athens, and a visit to Country Boy Brewing Company in Lexington.

How could you go wrong with peaches, falling from French toast and topped with candied pecans at a funky little restaurant promising 'Southern Fun Dining?' This was Georgia, after all. Great atmosphere, friendly staff and tasty twists on southern favourites. So good.

Similarly, how could you go wrong with dark craft beers infused with coffee and aged in bourbon barrels in Kentucky? In short, you couldn't.

What a great day.

Vitals:

• Time: Nine hours
• Distance: 714.3 kms
• Weather: Sunny
• States: Georgia, North Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky
• Wildlife: Turtles on the road

Hammer Time.

The road ahead is long for the Mustangs.

Jackson Centre, OH - Like a cement arrow pointing to the bayou, 20 hours of road unfurl before and behind us. Now a third of the way in: New Orleans, here we come.

Building on months of preparation and anticipation, the excitement of 39 Alternative Spring Breakers has seemingly been bottled into the bus like a soft drink, shaken vigorously. Soon, the building will become more tangible as we begin a Habitat for Humanity project in the Big Easy.

Despite some apprehension at the border as we waited to see if one of our team members would be turned back because of a misplaced passport, we were left with a relatively uneventful crossing. Exhale. A stunned jubilation took over from there, fueling this strangely exciting road trip.

With Ontario and Michigan behind us, Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi and Louisiana still loom lazily ahead. It turns out folding 6"3 into these seats comes as easily as sleeping in them. Which is to say, not.

Several hours in, the chatter persists. Cell biology texts lay strewn across upholstered seats, Shark Week has given way to the O.C. on the DVD player and a deck of cards shuffles between seats. Aces.

And the stale smell of french fries lingers still.

kentucky hills
The sun scorches behind
the scratched-out erasings
that carve jagged brushstrokes
folding over the curves
of these hills.

In darkness,
the lines shine brightly,
a second on,

a second off,
like a light switch
switched
hypnotically.

The beauty of not having to drive,
for once.

End of Transmission.

London, ON – Like a present that has already been ripped open, the journey home is, naturally, far less fun.

As much as I still love being on the road, most of the mystery and anticipation has by then seeped out the window. Of course, heading back into Ohio and Michigan isn't much of a draw, either.

Just past Cincinnati, Ohio, a car accident shut down the highway for a half hour and the power steering became obstinate again. Twice. The temperature continued to drop the farther north we went, dipping to six degrees. So much for sandals.

Yup, we're home. And Easter turkey awaits.

Vitals:

• Time: 12 hours
• Distance: 1,113.7 kms
• Weather: Hazy, with sun
• States/Provinces: Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, Michigan, Ontario
• Wildlife: None
  

A Caricature.

Spartanburg, SC – Weaving through hilly switchback cicatrices and past the French Broad River in the back country of North and South Carolina, we finally had our first deviation from the Interstate on this trip. 

Naturally, the day had begun to yawn.

A rock slide in Newport, Tennessee had caused us to detour an hour out of our way, which not only provided fun driving in the hills, but the most eye-opening experience of the journey thus far. It was a prime and timely opportunity to reflect on our good fortune, even in the face of current adversity in our lives.

Like a sad caricature, a young pregnant woman stood smoking on the rickety porch of a fallen-down trailer nestled in the trees. A half-dozen baby carriages in various states of disrepair sat perfectly aligned, much like the weathered, parted-out pick-up trucks to the side. 

I almost expected the moment to carry a New Yorker-type quip underneath.

Throughout the area, decrepit trailers and clapboard homes shrugged like depressed shoulders. Perching on the edge of the riverbank, they lacked doors and sported window frames that slouched into diamonds. A pauper’s garden of refuse dotted the lawn.

It really made us think, even as we careened through the fun-to-drive hills and curves – extreme poverty exists everywhere. Though unexpected, it was the day’s highlight.

From the time we entered Tennessee, however, we could tell from the spicy, humid aroma of the air and the red and white flowering trees that blossomed like small puffs of smoke that the onset of spring was already here. With budding trees comes a budding season and budding promise for the journey ahead.

And Carolina barbeque for dinner wasn't a bad way to end a day, either.

Vitals:

• Time: 14 hours
• Distance: 1,323.3 kms
• Weather: Predominantly grey, warming up in the afternoon; rain in major cities in the north
• Province/States: Ontario, Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina, South Carolina
• Wildlife: None
  

Outtakes.

London, Ontario - I have had a few days back in Ontar-I-O to regain my bearings, as well as to hibernate a bit (though I watched a couple of suns set, and a few stars dance, while learning about blogging in Malaysia). Just in time to return from vacation and face the hordes of weary, post-labour day souls turning up their collars to fend off the small teeth of fall. Self-sharpening like Ginsu in preparation of the w----- to come. I love this time of year. I can smell it, touch it, taste it. And best of all, I can feel it to my core.

A few additional photos from the trip south this past week.

Huntsville, Alabama: Beauty is all around, waiting to be found. A piece of graffiti I found written on a white board that had been affixed to the red brick wall. Just seemed poignant as I poked around alleys in an otherwise empty downtown Huntsville looking at the architecture and details on the buildings.Near the Kentucky/Tennessee border: Did I mention that it rained? Hard? I believe that this storm 'benefited' from the effects of Tropical Storm Ernesto threatening south and east of here. It was wet. Very wet. And this was when the visibility was still relatively good.Tennessee: From the category of signs gone wrong (or "Signs gone Wild!"?), we first have the "Polk Motel", which -- yes -- is named for one of the country's former Presidents. I'd still think they could have named something a bit more prestigious for him. At least a Suites. An Inn, perhaps? With a motel, there are just too many jokes (or pokes!) to be made.Alabama: That said, however, taking the cake are the Alabamans? Alabamians? (Yes, just looked it up; that's the correct offering for you trivialists.). Really, this one writes itself. And it's in the south, no less. Was there no thought put into that one? I can imagine the bank officer sitting there reading the business plan, snickering. With the number of strip joints I had seen advertised along my route, I would have been pretty disappointed to have pulled in here thinking it was somethign else and instead found that it was a 'Restaurant supply' store. At least it wasn't a carpeting depot.
Huntsville, Alabama: The store fronts (which were actually mostly lawyer offices) were really beautifully done with leaded glass and ornate designs. Huntsville, Alabama.
Huntsville, Alabama: A pigeon decided he wanted to be a part of this one. The buildings were so neat that I found myself looking skyward during most of my visit. At least there was nobody around to relieve me of my wallet when I was there because I was doing more craning than, well, a crane. Huntsville, Alabama: Which direction next? A few weeks until the next road trip, this one, however, only inter-province. Will be joined by a co-pilote this time, though!

Day Three. Home Sweet Home.

London, Ontario - And, he's back. Good golly, we return to Michigan today, where they like them some churches, mighty fine. Halleluiah!

The day started off well, with a complete – and most importantly – included, hot breakfast, Super 8-style. Make-your-own waffles, cereal, doughnuts, some sort of chopped sausage grits/porridge concoction I didn’t touch. And coffee. The orange juice was skunky, so it got tossed. Not a bad start, particularly after the lack of real food yesterday. Up at 6:54, I am still completely knackered. My throat is scratchy. And not in the sexy way. The trip started to catch up with me last night, but I really didn’t want to ply myself from the covers this morning. Well, I should have crawled under them earlier. Sigh. Such a dummy. Having started at the crack of darkness on Tuesday didn’t help either. Really.

On the road at 7:34 – not too bad a turnaround time despite the fog in my brain. One sign that it’s going to be a good day, though: the warning at the entrance to the highway states that it is not to be used by “farm implements”. Brings back fond memories of one of my former history professors who would always sprinkle his lectures with the term because he knew it would make us all laugh. Absurd, really. Another good sign: it’s clear and 20 degrees. Starting at 2,078.7 kms. today.

7:44: Big Bone Lick State Park. No comment. It’s too early, dammit. And I’m dumb today. Just past this, and outside Cincinnati, though, a giant traffic snarl lights up like an LED board. Signs warn of 10-15 minute delays. I remind myself of the perils of cat naps during that stretch. Then stretch and yawn. Where’s that coffee again? Gone. Damn my inability to drink more slowly. Sigh (number two).
What’s Playing: The Organ, Grab that Gun

8:13: Cincinnati! Finally, free from the clutches of the hordes. Traffic jam, be gone.

8:34: 2,170.9 kms. It’s grey out, but at least it's not raining.
What’s Playing: Man on the Moon, OST

8:57: West Carrolton, OH for more gas. Looks like a ritzier neighborhood. Whoops, maybe not the best place to choose for gas. It just struck me that I’m so used to not going to generic gas stations that I have stuck with the majors to fill the rental car. Hmm. $2.479 a gallon for a total of $26.48. According to news reports last night, fuel is cheaper across the US than it has been in a year and it is anticipated that gas prices will be down to $2.00 a gallon by Thanksgiving. Depends if their President starts another war somewhere. Sorry, my little yellow ribbon must have peeled off. I can support the troops just fine, thanks – I just don’t support that government. There is a very BIG difference. But these people carry guns, so I’ll keep my trap shut. Big trap. Big guns. Closed.
What’s Playing: Lauryn Hill, The Miseducation of

9:34: 2,272.7 kms.
What’s Playing: Alanis Morissette, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie

10:34: 2,383.7 kms.
What’s Playing: The Tragically Hip, Day for Night

11:23: Michigan!

11:29: Monroe, Michigan, here we come. Alright, one more stop for the road trip. The last hurrah. The big finale (have I built up the anticipation yet?). Jerky!

Uh, Santa lives there, right? How exactly do I get into a career in Jerky? I’m sure Guelph offers a degree in it.

Anytime a man wearing an apron -- and surrounded by various cured meats -- approaches with shears, do not fret. Smile broadly. Samples! Teriyaki Beef. Smoked Beef (sorry, drooling on the keyboard). Some other kind I cannot remember, though if I search far enough back into my molars, I might find some stringy remnants. Mmm, remnants. Jerky = yum. Especially on road trips. Too bad this one is almost over.

Anyway, paper bags full of jerky and I’m a happy man. In the absence of other exciting photo opp’s today, we’re going to embark on the journey called “Jerky over Michigan”. Replete with reviews. In depth reviews. Some might even say, “meaty”. Others stick to “dry”. Those ones are usually being jerky.

Beer flavoured beef. Spicy. Okay, I get it – tough to go too far astray with this one: Give man meat. Give man beer. Man be happy. A club, too? Over the moon.

11:34: 2,484.9 kms. Last stop? For real this time? Michigan Welcome Centre in Monroe. There’s the coffee again. And empty the car of garbage acquired in six states and one province over three days. But really, I just wanted to add to my map collection. I just got back into the car and wow, does it smell strongly of dried meats. Mmm, dried meats…Sorry, I just lost more time, opening and closing the door. Wafts are so good. But such a tease. Need more meat. Did I mention there’s jerky? Jerky, we’re close, you know.

Try the garlic beef, you say? Why, mighty nice of you to ask. Barkley was feeling left out and wanted to try some, too (I don't even want to see the cat gut after that one). This was surprisingly bland until 5-6 hours later. Just ask anyone I talked to. Except the jerky, he’s gone (hey, it was a lonely car). That conversation went like this: “Am I shaped like a state you just left?” “Not yet,” I replied. Then it became Rhode Island, which was subsequently sucked into the dark, gurgling ocean.
What’s Playing: Travis, The Man Who

12:20: Detroit! (Sorry Paul, “The D”).

12:28: Canada!*
(*Caveat: Well, we’re at the midpoint of the Ambassador Bridge, so they haven’t technically let me into the country yet. But the Russian judge ruled in my favor on this one.)

12:34: 2,555.8 kms.

My favorite jerky of the day was the honey garlic pork. Ever so slight a zip. Tender. I don’t want to pig out because I’m bac-on track to get home. It was smooth. Like butter. Very chewy butter. At least it looks like a maple leaf for going across the border (that’s what they’d say at Ruby Falls, anyway).

12:36: SCS wins the bet (she had wagered that I had a 42 per cent chance of getting stopped at the border, I had wagered 74 per cent). I whizzed through without any difficulty this time. I think the ever-so serious agent even raised the corner of her lip the slightest bit when I replied to her query about items to declare: “…right at $100 worth of apparel, including a pair of shoes…and some jerky.” A micro-smile at best, but I know she wanted some. I was just glad that she didn’t ask where I had been; I’ve had a mental block about remembering “Huntsville” all week, for whatever the reason.

Welcome to Canada! Windsor! Eek. 24 degrees and sunny. Finally make it to the good ol’ 401 eleven minutes later.
What’s Playing: Split CD: Wolf Parade, Apologies to the Queen Mary and EPs

13:34: 2,652.7 kms.
What’s Playing: Split CD: Regina Spektor: Soviet Kitsch and Begin to Hope

14:20: London! Grr. Welcome back to the city’s horribly mistimed lights. All red. And I’m so close I can taste it. Or maybe that’s just the jerky.

14:34: 2,749.4 kms.

14:38: Gas for the last time. 89.7, which is still cheaper than I’ve seen it in quite a while around here, for a total of $34.77. Drivin’ isn’t cheap.

14:43: HOME!!! (Yes, that one deserves triple exclamation marks). Total trip kilometers: 2,751.7. 35 hours and 28 minutes of tooling around time. Two bags of Crispers. Two Granny Smith Apples. A bag of Licorice. Most of two boxes of granola bars. Two 2L bottles of pop and a litre of water. A bag of Skor bites. And jerky, sweet jerky. Where would I be without you? Um, here.
And yes thanks, I am as tired as I look. But it was worth it.

Day Two, Afternoon.

Alas, no photos from this afternoon. There would have been some nice ones, too. I can picture them in my mind. Battery issues. Or battery owner issues. I was too worried I'd forget to take the battery with me if I recharged it last night. And it would have really looked out of place in that room, which hasn't changed much since Nixon was in power. Wish I had risked it -- there was some neat stuff out there today. Oh well, live and learn. Tomorrow, we begin anew.

12:24: 1,513.6 kms.
What’s Playing: Pulp, This is Hardcore

13:24: 1,630.3 kms.

13:42: Back off the highway looking for the Turkey Creek Outlets. Disappointing. Didn’t even get out of the car. They look just like the big boxes set up back home, just more plentiful. Money scurrying, quickly gathered and crammed back into my pockets.

14:08: Knoxville! Wild man’s back at it again, off the highway looking for the University of Tennessee. Go Vol’s. There are tents set up all around this city with signs advertising “Revivals”. I don’t think I’m going to stop here. Or there. Oh, there’s the university. In between, I also saw the World’s Fair park, replete with big, gold dome and ran over my share of bad, bad streets. Have you not heard of grading, folks? Driveways should not drop vertically to the street. Not good for the shocks. Or the bumper.
What’s Playing: Coldplay, Parachutes

14:31: More gas. $2.679 a gallon for a total of $21.89. With some clever guesswork, I managed to pull into a gas station directly beside the street that leads into the university. And almost got into an accident in the process (sorry to the guy who’s likely still cursing Canadians everywhere). Funny enough, UT is not located on University Avenue, but on Volunteer. It’s a good thing I have a fondness for orange. Bright orange. Everywhere. The university is still bustling with students.

UT gets high marks for the efficiency of providing free visitor parking (from an attended booth, no less) and maps. With the size of campus, the allotted 45 minutes of parking was hardly sufficient to see everything, but it’s a great gesture. And I got to park next to “Peyton Manning Pass”. Cute.

15:16: There’s an old street car on wheels making its way up the road in Knoxville. It’s too early to brag, yes, but I have found my way back across town to the highway on the first try. Confidence can be the great equalizer. Okay, is there toilet paper hanging from my shoe? There’s got to be something.

15:24: 1,718.3 kms. 31 degrees.
What’s Playing: The Postal Service: Give Up

15:48: Oneida/Hunstville, TN. Absolutely delicious juxtaposition of a xxx outlet strip mall falling literally under the shadow of a hundred-foot-tall cross.

16:05: Kentucky!
What’s Playing: Interpol, Antics

16:24: 1,833.9 kms. 27 degrees.

16:29: Scary moment as a dump truck decides to merge into my lane. This time, it’s not his right-of-way. Had to drive down the shoulder in front of a construction zone to avoid becoming gravel for the offending beast.

17:24: 1,953.1 kms.
What’s Playing: Bob Dylan, Greatest Hits

17:35: Lexington! Off-roadin’ it again, this time for the University of Kentucky. I had been drafting quickly behind a car from Ohio so that I could make up some time and get to the UK bookstore before it closed. Then another car from Ontario came along. Obviously a veteran of the 401. Hello, new drafting partner. One of the first places I passed in Lexington had a giant donkey painted on the side of the building, with a sign that read “Big Ass Fans”. Don’t believe me, check out the website. The houses here are incredible. I’m seeing a theme developing: there’s money in the south. Damn.
What’s Playing: Split CD: Cat Power, The Greatest; Camera Obscura, Let’s Get Out of this Country

UK is a more modern-looking university, with mostly red brick buildings. It’s cooler out, despite the humidity. I can’t believe how much branded merchandise there is at these American schools. You can get almost anything with the school’s logo. And even the UK Marching Band has its own field. But as hawd as ah looked, I couldn’ fahnd Ashley Judd anywhea (workin’ on that southern accent). It’s a shame, really. Would’ve topped off a fine, fine day. It was nice to see, though, that even in Lexington, there is indeed still a student ghetto.

For the second time today, I have successfully navigated across a university city to re-find the highway sans map. Mom would be proud. It turns out that Lexington isn’t a one-horse town, though. It’s also home to Transylvania University. Can you imagine the looks you’d get if you had a medical degree from there? You don’t have to worry – it’s a small, liberal arts school. That goes by the short form, Transy. Glad they kept the ‘s’ in. I know, I know, like they haven't heard it all before. Just not here.

18:24: 1,988.4 kms.

18:44: 2,000 kms!

18:51: The horse farm to end all horse farms – thousands of acres divided with nice white fences. Not right beside it: Elmer’s.

19:02: Rain. Must be approaching the Ohio border. Oh wait, yes indeed I am.

19:24: 2,076.4 kms.

20:20: Certainly does not describe my vision right now. Bleary and tired. The end of the day was to have come sooner, but I got lured into going to the Nike Factory outlet beside the hotel. Dammit. I don’t need new basketball shoes, but I love them. And they’d normally be $200, but they’re on sale for $40. And they’re nice. And they fit well. And, dammit, they’re purple. At least there’s free wireless here and, an added bonus: free hot breakfast in the morning. Then it will be homeward bound. Wrapped up at 2,078.7 kms. tonight, reflecting a total of 792.6 kms for the day. And 13 hours out and about. More seeing of the sights, though. Good day. Now, good night.

Day Two, Morning.

Dry Ridge, Kentucky - Long day again, but this one was more enjoyable, notably because, having gained a grasp of how much time travel would take yesterday, I was able to take my time coming back and see more of the sights. That and, of course, the weather’s cooperation was an immeasurable, not to mention unexpected, help. I had no intention of making the push back to Ontario tonight anyway, so I’ve just set myself up in striking distance, stopping in northern Kentucky. Was more impressed with this state than Ohio anyway, so I’d rather spend my money here. Yeah, still not sleeping out of the car…

Still, in Dry Ridge, KY, I’m just a shout from Cincinnati, which is not too tough a drive back. If I don’t screw up around Detroit. I had thought of stopping into Steve & Barry’s on my way back through ‘The D’ (thanks for keeping me hip to the lingo, Paul) as the entire store is priced at $7, but I’m thinking no at this point. More on that below. It did, however, become ‘University Day’ today. First to the University of Tennessee (Sorry Kate, I know this is the wrong ‘T’, not to mention the wrong colour of orange, but I’d go to Austin if I had the chance, too!) in Knoxville, then the University of Kentucky in Lexington. Good times. Looked like schools. Schools with students. Except bigger than Canada. And even more moneyed.

7:24: Go time! I had planned to get up at eight EST but – blink, blink – started the day a little earlier. Like 5:55 earlier. Oh well, more time to explore. Still have a few days left where I can sleep when I get back. It’s a muggy 25 degrees in Huntsville, Alabama and the slow trek home has begun. Foggy, we start the day at 1,286.1 kms. on the trusty trip meter. Oh, the fog? It’s outside, too…

Must fill up on gas as I let Coby dry out last night because I needed those precious fumes for myself after that long a day. I was gassed, he needed it. $2.699 a gallon for a total of $30.94. Thankfully, the exchange rate these days is good. Clever little sign over a bookstore: “Booklegger Used Books”. Witty, even at this time of day.
What’s Playing: Metric, Split CD: Old World Underground, Where Are You Now? and Live it Out

8:00: That didn’t take long – I’m off the planned road and looking for adventure. Feeling frisky as my confidence in the roads grows. Really, I don’t have anywhere I HAVE to be today, right? So what if I get a little lost. Not that that will happen. Anyway, fighting the fog, a sign for the Cathedral Caverns State Park screams to me like a beacon in, well, the fog. Should be a nice morning for a drive in the smoky mountains. Particularly if the fog burns off. Oh wait, it’s eight in the morning, er, seven in the morning here, and that’s not likely to happen for a bit. Not many other people on the road this time of day. Nor, it seems at the Park. There are a few workers building a new walkway into the cave – which is, apparently, the largest cavern mouth in the world – but the box office is as silent as a mime. Foiled in my bid for spelunking again. Egads. It feels good to go for a little hike in the surrounding area, though, particularly after having cooped myself up in the car for so long these past couple of days.

8.24: 1,342.2 kms.

8:37: Sunshine! Was back in the car after the caves at 8:30 and actually found my way back out alright. Oh, I spoke too soon. Back in the valley, it’s grey again. The new State colour of Ohio has become the theme colour for my trip. Grr. Driving through Scottsboro, AL (“Where the mountains meet the lakes”) is gorgeous and, as the tagline suggests, actually features water, which is something I’ve seen little of thus far. The lake is covered in kelp and doesn’t smell very good, but it looks nice with the mountain backdrop.
What’s Playing: Hayden, Live at Convocation Hall, Disc Two.

9:24: 1,413.1 kms. This has just been a spectacular day thus far, particularly with my deep-seated love for the mountains, though the Smoky Mountains don’t hold a candle to the Canadian Rockies. Actually, nobody should hold a candle to either of them. Still, in the absence of the Rockies, these will do just fine. It’s 24 degrees, though humid, and I’m traveling along at a slower pace, not relying on those snooty main highways. The problem with the secondary highways, though? No state rest stops. At least I’m coffee deprived.

9:47: Georgia! State number six on the trip.

What’s Playing: REM, Reckoning. Just in time, too, for they are Athens, GA natives. Funny, too, is that the now-infamous line, “Jefferson, I think we’re lost” came on right as I crossed the border. Small things, small minds. I get it. Just because I like the name of the town, Rising Fawn, I stop. Well, that and I need to pee (no state rest stops, remember? Keep up, will you!) We’re back into the heart of the mountains at this point.

10:15: Tennessee! Sorry Georgia: Wham, bam, thank you ma’am, I barely got to know you. Similarly, it’s hot and sticky here, too. 27 degrees.

10:24: Looks like I didn’t track the kilometers this hour. Busy putting Coby the Cobalt through his paces up various switchbacks of Lookout Mountain. We’re headed to the highly-vaunted Ruby Falls. Well, they’re vaunted by the billboards littered across the mountain for miles back, anyway. I sense commercial exploit. Peter Parker, by Spidey Sense is tingling. Oh wait, is that what that is? I’m not going to need the topical cream after all. It’s a mountain, people; what’s so great about it.

Sigh. The Disney-like music is playing out of faux-rocks. It’s not quite “It’s a small world after all”, but it’s close. Dead give-away. Would be the only give-away of the visit, I am sure. I should have been smarter and run as fast as my wee legs would take me. Well, they’re not so wee, so I couldn’t. The smell of outstretched hands for money. Oooh, ooh, a trail – perhaps I can snake them and get away with it! Harumph. “Employees Only”. Dead end. Back toward the music and the door, manned by someone with far-too-shiny teeth. I’m not sure, but I think I heard a latch bar the door shut when I went through.

So, I’m suckered for $15.00 to see the falls, touted to be the tallest underground falls accessible by the public. Would have rathered give that kind of money to a state park (like this morning’s, which wouldn’t take my money), but, okay, I’m a tourist. I’ll bite. That’s what I’m here for, right? Actually, it sounds kind of neat. I’ll get to see a cave. And a waterfall. Maybe even stalagmites. Ooh, ooh, ooh – I’m getting excited now.

The tour guide was actually very funny. Even 160 feet beneath the ground. Though the combination of his whiny voice and his southern accent made me want to punch him. Not really. Poor kid’s grasping for puberty. And to discover his sexuality. He made little jokes about ‘Stalag-lights’ for the things the company had built to house the lights in the rocks and ‘Stalag-pipes’ for the tobacco-shaped rock formations (seriously, they decide rocks look like various objects, then name them after said object). That’s the kind of humour I can appreciate. In small doses. Unless it’s me.

The formations were actually pretty cool and the cave was neat in and of itself. Not built for people of my height, though. I guess they’re not really built at all. For dramatic effect, the lights were off in the room with the waterfall until…just…the…right...moment. That was a bit much, but it was something you don’t get to see every day. Unless you work there. The guide had obviously made his spiel a few times. Unfortunately, the camera battery died before I got the chance to get up to the top of Lookout Mountain, so no pictures. It was quite a sight over Tennessee, though. You’ll just have to trust me on that. All in all, it was cool.

Such a tourist am I.