Actually, late day 4. Gotcha! I pushed my luck and parked for the night fairly close to the main road. Around 11:30, just as I was finally falling asleep, I got the bright headlights/brighter flashlight combo. Police officer. Someone had called my car in as abandoned, and once he saw me everything was fine. Life is easier as a white male—I wouldn’t be traveling alone otherwise. I wish the world were a more equal place, and that everyone would be given such respect.
I started today along the Blue Ridge Parkway again. The fog was insidious and slowly crept in until I could barely see 30 feet in front of me. The only wildlife I saw was a long, brown dog, cheerfully walking toward cars on the road. The guide at the visitor center said it was probably an escaped hunting dog and sent a ranger to track it down.
The Parkway was closed at Roanoke, so I exited and was ejected onto the interstate. I was disappointed until I saw a magical sign on the freeway: Exit 6, Dr. Pepper Park. Interrobang. I could not wait to find Hershey Park’s long-lost, awful-tasting cousin. Instead, five minutes away, I found this.
The world’s saddest outdoor stage. How is this sponsored? Is this the best Dr. Pepper can do?
Disappointment turned to temptation as my path west took me to a mid-size city staple: a street with every chain restaurant imaginable. I could write a thousand words on this, but I’ll keep it quick. Yes, I prefer high-quality local restaurants and home-cooked meals. I still love chain restaurants. They’re almost like manmade species—after searching for bears and deer at Shenandoah yesterday, I was now on the hunt to find an elusive Cookout or Jack-in-the-Box. I did find a Cookout about an hour later and very much enjoyed my stop.
The pointy part of Virginia is naturally pretty, but is filled with gray remnants of civilization. Sagging, abandoned buildings; big rig cabs consumed by vines; a state prison. However, once I arrived at the westernmost edge, the landscape shifted, and I was surrounded by twenty-foot hills completely covered with gorgeous green vines. No pictures, since it was all highway, but a great backdrop as I swung through Tennessee and arrived in southern Kentucky. I have a hotel room for the night, since it may thunder here. Tomorrow, I visit Mammoth Cave!
Two warnings, Jake.
Whatever you do, don’t stop and help people who look like they need help on the side of the road. Call it in to the police instead. Let them do the helping. Someone was shot and killed in Alabama when he and his girlfriend were flagged down by a woman who appeared to have car trouble. It was a scam and he was shot and killed.
The other thing is, with Mammoth Cave pay the money to take the tour. Jeff and I took the free self tour and there was basically nothing to see. By the time we figured that out, it was too late to take the guided tour.
Glad you found a Cookout! Never heard of it. None around here for sure. Glad you stayed overnight in a motel to avoid the stormy weather. What a luxury that must have been! Be safe and continue to enjoy this great adventure. Love, Grandma
Hey Jake – just getting caught up as we head back (flying) from dropping Sam off in North Carolina. We did our own road trip down from Boston and did see many Cookouts. FYI, there are six dollar stores within 3 miles of Gastonia Nc if you get there! We also did have a chance to watch a performer play at Pin Wheels in Gastonia (outdoor restaurant) and thought of you. Love the Diet Coke. tracking too….looking forward to seeing what comes next!
Oh, just wait ’til you get to Route 66, buddy! Talk about abandoned America! You know what’s thriving out there near Rachel, NV? ALIEN museums and “Something Is Out There.” Make your own tinfoil hat and walk right in!
Otherwise, all the really good stuff out there is all off-limits military reservations where the atomic bomb tests were. They’re STILL radioactive.
However, there’s a graveyard of obsolete military aircraft out in Arizona or New Mexico, which I hear is pretty impressive.
Oh, by the way. It’s a BAD idea to get out of your car and sleep on the ground. Your great-grandfather tried that on his trip out west in the 1930s and got woken up by rattlesnakes!