BEATING THE BLIZZARD

Traveling is an adventure. You never know where you are going to end up and what the stories will turn out to be along the way. On this trip the plan was to beat the snow out of Michigan. So far, so good. We did hear about a snowstorm in Houston, TX. We are hoping they have that all out of their system before we get that far south. It has been cold at night so far along the Natchez Trace and brisk during the day but the further south we roll the more it’s beginning to look “less” like Christmas.

My Uncle Vic loaned me a GPS when I left. This is my first experience with one. I have to say, “I am not impressed.” Doesn’t it seem odd that Garmin would use the voice of a very dominant women, who can’t make up her mind and with no sense of direction, to guide you through the spider web of American roads. She has me hang left when the exit is three lanes and semi’s to the right. I may be a sick puppy but I find myself arguing with this broad. Gaila says I can’t use the “B” word anymore, so I call her a Witch, as in “Witch way do you want me to go this time bitch.” She’s mad at me now, Gaila and the Witch. I can’t get any navigation help from either of them anymore. 

Our first unplanned turn of events happened in Kentucky along I-65. I sped up a bit to make room for an 18-wheeler coming out of a truck scale. When I let up on the throttle my engine backfired like a cannon shot through the motor home. I stopped at the next exit to check things out and found my backfire was one of my inner dual tires quickly expelling air. I had the brakes done before we left and the mechanic did not hook up the extension between the two tires. It hung down and rubbed against the brand new tire for five hundred miles before the extension wore through and blew. The tire was also shot as it had rubbed a soft spot in the tire too. 

I’m always a little nervous when someone works on my rig, especially if it turns out to be Homer and Jethro. We stopped at a tire dealer and sure enough H&J both worked there. They were trying to pull my hubcap off by hand, slappin’ each other upside the head and comparing tatoos. I decided to watch them like a hawk.

We met our friends from home, (the Fosdicks) at the tire store. They were headed for Alabama along I-65 the same time we were. By cell phone we kept in touch and planned to meet at the exit to Mammoth Cave National Park. We thought we would miss them when we had to leave the expressway to find a tire store, but they have a GPS with a different woman than mine and came right to the tire store and found us with no problem. It’s a small world. We hardly ever see them at home and end up having a reunion at a Kentucky tire store. 

We love reading about the history of the Natchez Trace. There should be more of these scenic roadways that allow no commercial traffic. For 444 miles we move south along a beautiful parkway at 45 m.p.h. No traffic signals or stop signs, picture perfect pavement, historical pullovers every few miles, free campgrounds and lots of hikes and friendly people. 

Still traveling after all these years!