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(reconstructed from memory)
Sadly we departed Sandusky, Ohio ("America's Roller Coast"), and headed due south. For the first stretch we were driving on a small county highway system simialr to HWY 20 up in Skagit County where I grew up. Small towns, farms, more corn, just a very nice drive. Eventually we hooked up to the interstate, and stopped for lunch just north of the West Virginia border.
Continuing the drive, the first thing I noticed upon crossing the state line was.... a Chevron sign! Yes!! For the first time since Spokane, Washington I could actually pay for gas the way I had budgeted. it was a great relief.
The Appalacians were exactly the way I had imagined them, rolling hills with densely packed forest land. You could walk twenty paces into the woods and never find the highway again. As I weaved my way through the mountains I was listenting to a piece on NPR, an audio diary of a woman walking the Appalacian Trail. It was a very Zen experience.
We crossed the narrowest part of Virginia, the state coming and going so fast I barely even registered it. It's a shame the route did not take us anywhere near Front Royal. I would have liked to have seen it, since it plays such a large role in the books by James Axler. Ah, well... someday...
Late into the evening we finally arrived in Charlotte, North Carolina after hitting major traffic due to road construction. At the hotel my credit card was declined for no good reason (I have since discovered that I was erroneously billed for an extra night at the Sandusky hotel, and am still trying to straighten that out). We were both starving, and the only place we could find that was open was the Waffle House. I am repeating myself here from other posts and conversations, but this place made me feel like I was at an open casting call for COPS. It reinforced every bad stereotype of the south I have ever had, and if I never set foot in another Waffle House it will be too soon.
After dinner there was nothing to do but go to sleep, so that we could get the hell out of North Carolina first thing in the morning.
Tomorrow: Home again, home again, jiggity jog
Sadly we departed Sandusky, Ohio ("America's Roller Coast"), and headed due south. For the first stretch we were driving on a small county highway system simialr to HWY 20 up in Skagit County where I grew up. Small towns, farms, more corn, just a very nice drive. Eventually we hooked up to the interstate, and stopped for lunch just north of the West Virginia border.
Continuing the drive, the first thing I noticed upon crossing the state line was.... a Chevron sign! Yes!! For the first time since Spokane, Washington I could actually pay for gas the way I had budgeted. it was a great relief.
The Appalacians were exactly the way I had imagined them, rolling hills with densely packed forest land. You could walk twenty paces into the woods and never find the highway again. As I weaved my way through the mountains I was listenting to a piece on NPR, an audio diary of a woman walking the Appalacian Trail. It was a very Zen experience.
We crossed the narrowest part of Virginia, the state coming and going so fast I barely even registered it. It's a shame the route did not take us anywhere near Front Royal. I would have liked to have seen it, since it plays such a large role in the books by James Axler. Ah, well... someday...
Late into the evening we finally arrived in Charlotte, North Carolina after hitting major traffic due to road construction. At the hotel my credit card was declined for no good reason (I have since discovered that I was erroneously billed for an extra night at the Sandusky hotel, and am still trying to straighten that out). We were both starving, and the only place we could find that was open was the Waffle House. I am repeating myself here from other posts and conversations, but this place made me feel like I was at an open casting call for COPS. It reinforced every bad stereotype of the south I have ever had, and if I never set foot in another Waffle House it will be too soon.
After dinner there was nothing to do but go to sleep, so that we could get the hell out of North Carolina first thing in the morning.
Tomorrow: Home again, home again, jiggity jog