Day 10

9:45 p.m., and home, we arrived, 909 miles later.

We left Pigeon Forge at 8:30.  The hotel's continental breakfast was lousy, so we stopped at McDonald's for breakfast, filled the tank, and headed to Knoxville and I-40.  We traveled non-stop as much as possible, stopping three times for gas and hitting the McDonald's drive-through for lunch and Dairy Queen (not like Texas' Dairy Queens but good nonetheless) for supper.  Mom drove after lunch from Nashville to Little Rock.  We saw an horrific accident on the eastbound side, and encountered a semi/van accident on our side.  We were near the accident on our side, so our slow-down was minimal.

We reached Mom and Dad's, and Dad had locked the back porch door.  I phoned Dad on Mom's mobile saying, "Let us in, let us in by the hair of your chinny-chin-chin!" and Dad wanted to know why I wanted him to unlock the back porch door.  I told Dad that we were outside, and he couldn't believe it.  Dad thought we were crazy and couldn't belive we had driven so far.

Mom and I were definitely glad to sleep in our own beds waking without an agenda.  I loved this trip, and I hope Mom doesn't wait another five years before we go on another trip!

Day 9

We headed across North Carolina to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park!  It took us a bit of a drive, but we left Williamsburg destined for cooler temperatures.


Mom wanted to see the Smokies after looking at William and Penni's Springbreak Pictures, so it became our last destination, and it was a favorite.  We hit an afternoon rain storm that really cooled Mom off (temps dropped to a chilly 66 degrees).

We opted not to go through Cherokee and drove the Blue Ridge Parkway, instead.  Mom loved the mountains, tunnels, and peaceful sounds of the Oconaluftee River as it meandered along its bed.  I saw something I had never seen before--a rabble of Swallowtail Butterflies.  I have never seen a rabble before, and I just stood their amazed that I could see some of the butterflies' proboscsis drinking from the wet moss at the foot of exposed tree roots. 

Mom needed to get out and walk around, so we stopped at the Kephart Prong Trail bridge.  Mom walked around the trailhead admiring the quiet sounds of nature and the enclosed feeling provided by the towering trees.  We snapped some pictures of Magnolia buds, and of course, I got some photos of Mom.

Traveling on towards the park's Appalachian Trail (which is also the Tennessee/North Carolina boundary), we came to a small clearing where two dozen cars were parked and people thronged the side of the road.  Black Bear in tree, what else?  Mom has earned the title "Bear Whisperer."  Last year, on Mom's first visit to Yellowstone National Park, she and Cody see a baby Black Bear.  This year, Mom's first visit to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, she and I see a juvenile Black Bear.  The Ole Girl is two for two in bear sightings.  This bear munched non-chalantly on tree leaves really initially unaware that he garnered so much attention.  However, a couple of people talked so loudly, it attracted the bear's attention.  The bear began shimmying down the tree quickly.  So this one idiot moves closer to the tree, so the bear stops his descent and hisses, loudly I might say.  At this point, I take off running (afterall, I have heard the bear stories in the Read Right books, and I had no intention for Mom or me to become the topic of a new bear story).  After the bear hissed, he continued descending, then jumped the remaining 11 feet and lumbered off in to the woods.

Mom and I continued on our journey.  Cloud cover and rain descended over Clingman's Dome, and even though the new road opened, we traveled maybe a mile before realizing that the clouds and rain prevented us from seeing anything, so we decided to continue on to Pigeon Forge.  Our descent in to Tennessee continued to provide scenic, breathtaking views of the mountains, which really are blue in appearance.  Even though the Sugarlands Visitor Center stays open an hour later than the Oconaluftee Visitor Center, our gawk at the bear caused us to miss touring the visitor center. 

We reached Pigeon Forge (gratefully by-passing Gatlinburg, the most redneck place in the South; I swear the War Between the States is still being fought and is alive and well, and you might run in to General Lee and General Jackson).  Pigeon Forge was an eye-opener and a lively, little redneck tourist trap, but we were only staying the night, so after eating at McAllister's Deli, we headed back to our hotel. 

According to Cody's GPS, it is 909 miles from Pigeon Forge, Tennessee to Palmer, Texas, but Mom and I are going to try to make it home tomorrow evening.  We will cross in to the Central Time Zone, so we do gain an hour.  Mom is tired and ready to eat and sleep at home, so travel we will.  It has been a great vacation, though!

Day 8

Hot, H-O-T hot!  Virginia is having a heat wave with temps in the high 90s and feels-like temps in the mid-100s.  The weather disappointed me for Mom, who has wanted to always go to Williamsburg. 

We enjoyed the morning at the George Wythe (prounounced with) home.  Why history ignores George Wythe, I do not know.  Not only a signer of the Declaration of Independence, George Wythe taught Thomas Jefferson law, became the first professor of law at The College of William and Mary, was mayor of Williamsburg, a self-taught scientist, a member of the House of Burgesses, and designer of the Seal of Virginia, to name some of his many accomplishments. 

In scoorching heat, we walked to the DeWitt Museum.  Originally, it was the first hospital dedicated to the humane treatment of the mentally ill in British North America.  Today, it is a museum dedicated to both the mentally ill and colonial America.

After lunch, we toured the Capitol, which quickly became Mom's favorite place.  The Capitol is two houses joined by a bridge.  We toured the Lower House, the House of Burgesses, walked upstairs to the Upper House, the House of Lords, and then to the courtroom.  We left and enjoyed a root beer at the Raleigh Tavern Bakery.  As we left, we were invited to a sing-along at the Raleigh Tavern's Apollo Room, where musicals, plays, and ballads begin in this country.

Heat began overtaking us, so we headed back to the car.  We drove around Williamsburg seeing the old and new, and Mom announced that she wanted eggs, so iHOP it was.

Seeing that Thursday's temperatures are going to be higher than today's, we decided to head to the Smoky Mountains a day earlier than planned.

Day 7

Not Gulliver's Travels, but travels nonetheless.  Originally, we planned to take the Outerbanks to Williamsburg, so Mom and I left Charleston traveling up U.S. 17.  Getting through Myrtle Beach was a crawl.  However, once we crossed the South/North Carolina border, we stopped at the North Carolina Visitor Center, where a very gracious lady helped us plan our route.  Learning we had to schedule a ferry ride that would last 2.5 hours and then take another ferry and travel across the Outerbanks would take 12 hours, Mom and I decided to cut through North Carolina using its backroads.  With all the small towns and speed zone changes, we made it to Williamsburg around 6 p.m. 

Mom and I drove around Colonial Williamsburg looking for a place to stay, and decided on the LaQuinta about two miles from the Visitor's Center.  We then visited the VC for a map and orienting us on the activities for the week, so we could plan which day to go to Historic Jamestowne and Yorktown and which day to visit Williamsburg.

Riding in a car does not seem like much of a challenge, but it does wear me out!  Great company and conversation, though!

Day 6

Mom chose Magnolia Plantation (yeah!), so up the Ashley River we went.  After enjoying a delicious continental breakfast, we headed 12 miles northwest of Charleston to the Magnolia Plantation which has been owned by the same family for 14 contiguous generations.  Like Charles Kuralt, I love going to this place.  500 year old Live Oaks line the drive, so perspective is established from the start.  We bought tickets to the grounds, the Audubon Swamp, and the house tour.  Mom liked the swamp tour, best.

Prior to the swamp tour, we toured one of the many gardens.  Flowers, especially Hydrangeas, bloomed all-around.  A majority of the magnolias had already blossomed, but we did see some trees with flowers on them.  Riding aboard the tram to take the Audubon Swamp tour, we saw several alligators in different swamps, several Snake Birds, ducklings, a beautiful Blue Heron, and deer.  Original slave quarters dotted the landscape, and we saw the oldest  pre-historic Indian mound on the east coast, which John Drayton Hastie refused the Smithsonian to excavate including writing this stipulation in his will).  Ending our day with the house tour, we saw some beautiful pieces of furniture, including a Chippendale bookshelf.

We headed back to Charleston, eating at the posh Palmetto Cafe, where Mom got me to try arrugala (yuck, ekk) for the first time.  Mom dined on scrumptious chicken salad, and I enjoyed a delicious seafood club.  Then, we took a walking tour down E. Bay Street to South of Broad, and on to Battery Park.  I had to leave Mom at Battery Park, because I had walked her to death.  I scurried up Meeting Street to our car, drove to pick her up, and we drove King Street visiting its design, apparel, and antiques districts.  We also looked for Trademark Properties, Richard Davis' business, but we could not find it, disappointingly so.  Exhasuted, we headed back to the inn.

Tomorrow, it is to Williamsburg via North Carolina's Outerbanks!  Lighthouses, yippee!

Day 5

We drove from Savannah to Charleston, which differed greatly form last year's birthday drive.  Mom thought I would be disappointed, but I was not.  We got to Charleston around noon, found our inn, and went to Ft. Sumter.  We enjoyed a nice, a/c ferry ride and pretty afternoon at Fort Sumter.

Driving down Meeting Street to our inn, Mom spotted a restaurant named Sticky Fingers and decided that is where she wanted to eat.  It was across the street from where we had to park the car (2 1/2 blocks away from the inn).  Come to find out, Sticky Fingers was bar-b-que, delicious bar-b-que, with a complimentary peach cobbler for dessert.

Afterwards, Mom relaxed in our wonderful room at Meeting Street Inn, and I took off with my camera.  It was a nice Sunday evening with few tourists.  I snapped many photos of historic buildings.  This birthday, while different from many others, was a great birthday.  I enjoyed sightseeing and spending the day with Mom.  We had a great time.  Being 44 is turning out to be pretty good.

Tomorrow, we are visiting a plantation and touring the city.

Day 4

Trolley tour, sight-seeing, and singing, oh my!

We enjoyed riding the trolley seeing Savannah's historic district and learning about Mr. Lincoln's 1864 Christmas present.  We returned to many sites we saw on the tour, lingering at a leisurely pace.  We lunched at the Six Pence Pub, where Hollywood filmed Something to Talk About with Julia Roberts and Dennis Quaid.  Mom ate Shepard's pie.  We planned with the concergie, Calvin (who could be The Lady Chablis slightly chubby sibling), to attend "Cousin Billy's" matinee performance of Southern Nights at the Savannah Theatre on Chippewa Square.  Walking around the square, we saw Juliette Gordon Low's home (yes, many Girl Scouts were there), Mom made a friend on a bench, and I saw where Zemeckis placed Forrest Gump's bench and filmed the floating feather.

Southern Nights delighted us, immensely!  It was a great performance of American music through the generations and genres with a few audience sing-alongs, and Maynard's, "Hey, now!" stole the show.  I met Billy's cousin, Matthew, and we enjoyed talking about the Capers clan.  Mr. Capers has never given me bad advice, but going to see Cousin Matthew has to be his best advice to me!

We leisurely strolled back to the hotel in a light rainstorm and headed out to spend time with Robert Louis Stevenson's ghost at The Pirate's House.  I ate the best linguini I have ever had in my life, and enjoyed touring around the oldest part of the city.  We learned that Stevenson stayed at The Pirate's House while writing Treasure Island.  Some of the more interesting tales were that men would come in to have a drink, the pirates would get them drunk to where they passed out, and then the pirates carried them through the secret tunnel to the ships at port.  When the unsuspecting locals awoke, they were already well at sea.  One such "victim" was Savannah's chief of police.  It took him two years to get back, but he was quoted as having the time of his life.

We ended the day at Bonaventure Cemetery, but the Bird Girl statue is not there any longer; instead, her home is now in the Telfair Museum.  We left before the hoodoo could begin.  Tomorrow, it's on to Charleston.

Day 3

Having a difficult time adjusting to the Eastern Daylight Time Zone, Mom and I slept in until 10!!! Mom suddenly awoke, checked her watch, and not-so-gently, roused me out of bed. After quickly getting ready, Mom and I traversed Georgia, including Peach County home of the Lane Company. We saw acres and acres of gorgeous peach orchards and some of the prettiest pecan groves I have ever seen. The pecan trees towered dizzily into the sky.

We finally made it to Savannah at 4. I drove us around Savannah to show Mom its beauty, squares, and trees. Mom decided she wanted to stay within the historic district, so we went to The Plantation Inn, where I stayed when I was last here. Having no room with two beds (and they offered us the room with the fireplace--hot, ewww), we trekked on to other quaint inns, which were booked. When all else fails, The Hilton--prime location, excellent customer service, and wonderful conceirge connections.

After settling in to our rooms, we looked at things to do tomorrow, and headed to the River Front to eat at The Cotton Exchange and do a little tourist shopping. For an appetizer, we ate my favorite--Fried Green Tomatoes, and oh, were they delicious! I only get them once a-year, so I savored every delicious morsel. Surf and turf and off we went to the Candy Factory, Savannah's Original Candy Maker. I know I'm a Southern girl, and I love pecans, but I do not like pralines. Now that the collective gasp has passed, I enjoyed this candy store, who's fame is pralines, but chocolate and caramel and sugar abounded, oh my! I did not purchase anything, because simply by being in this store, I gained five pounds alone via osmosis! It was fun, though.

Mom bought a great yellow, girlie purse; we looked at shirts, and laughed at the drunk street performers, then headed to the Bay Street side and marvelled at the cobbled streets, steep stairs, and gorgeous architecture. (My favorite building is still the Cotton Exchange.) We headed back to the hotel via Colonial Park Cemetery where several ghost tours strolled by, and decided we would take one tomorrow evening.

Trolley tour, house tours, and sightseeing tomorrow and Sunday, then we'll check out and head to Charleston, Sunday evening.

Day 2

Eastern Time Zone!! Our Highway 20 ride was long, long, long today. We started listening to one of Donna Leon's Commissario Guido Brunetti books on tape, saw the highways and byways of Alabama, and ended the day in Columbus, Georgia. No Savannah, tonight, but we should reach Savannah early afternoon.

While driving, I thought about a photo I took yesterday. In college, I had a wonderful English Literature professor, Dr. B. J. Alexander, who often posed deep, pondering questions to our class of 25 students. One day Dr. Alexander posed a question to our class early in the semester..."From where do ideas come?" 20+ years later, I still think about that question trying to give it a reasonable answer, but I haven't been able to come up with an answer that holds true time and time again.

When thinking about that question though, I often wonder about another question Dr. Alexander posed to us..."Which of the five senses is the most important?" While I have not answered Dr. Alexander's first question, yet, I have definitively answered the second--the sense of smell.

I have lost friends and students, but I have only had three relatives die during my 43 years orbiting the sun--both my maternal grandparents and my paternal grandmother, and their deaths did not occur until I was in my late teens and mid-20s. My parents are older than other people my age, so my childhood has always been filled with family stories, and each of the kids in our family can vividly recount tales of black and white pictures in the photo albums of our parents and grandparents.

In visiting Marshall's T & P railroad yesterday with Mom, I learned an important lesson that will be incredibly painful sometime in the distant future (very distant, hopefully). Six years ago, I was working on creating a new flower bed. I have always liked railroad ties for borders for flowerbeds and was looking for six ties. There is a Union Pacific track about four miles from my house, and they were replacing the ties and spikes. I met the workers one morning to ask if I could buy six used ties from them, and the fellows told me I could have them, if I would come back that afternoon with a truck. I walked over to Mom and Dad's intending to borrow Dad's truck, which is almost always a guaranteed, "Yes." However, when I told my parents of my endeavor, they both said, "No." I was really shocked, but then, Mom and Dad said it would be too painful for them if I used railroad ties. That is all they said, no explanation, no nothing, and I didn't press the issue, mainly because I was so shocked.

Yesterday, Mom told me several of her childhood stories about the depot and riding on the trains as we walked through the museum. When we walked outside, Mom said that if she remembered correctly, passengers had to walk up those stairs to reach the waiting platform, so up I went. I took a photo from the cover of the platform looking down the tracks as if I was a passenger waiting on a train. Then, the wind picked up, and the smell of creosote inundated my nostrils. Every train story that my parents shared with me came flooding in to my consciousness, rapidly. Creosote, creosote would have brought back more memories than my parents wanted to remember; that's why Mom and Dad said no to the ties six years ago.

The sense of smell is the first one we know; it's how babies identify their mother; it's what makes food taste great and flowers look beautiful. Smell, I know the ones I cherish today and hope never to know after my parents are gone. Smell, and all is answered.

Day 1

As June Carter Cash sang, "I'm going to Jackson," and that is what we did. Originally, we planned to leave at 10:00 a.m., but with the trip to Sonic for a Route 44 Sweet Tea, extra ice, and a return trip to the house for books-on-tape, batteries, and my fly rods and reels (hee, hee, hee), we hit the interstate at 11:00, instead. KFC for lunch and then on to Marshall, TX.

I have learned a new saying from Mom, "It's going in the journal." I learned that this saying accompanies an undesired behavior, such as having to spend time getting the tea or going back to the house or missing the Rest Area sign. Mom just pops out with it and certainly exaggerates my misbehaviors, but it is really funny, because she just says it without undue provocation, and with Mom's hyperbolic writing skills and sarcasm, it is hilarious. We do have a great time.

In Marshall, we visited the Texas & Pacific Railway Museum, which is also an active AMTRAK station. The museum portrayed the life of Marshall during its railroad days. Both of my grandfathers worked for the T&P, and we saw pictures and memorabilia of the railroad's heyday, including name plates of my dad's dad and grandfather.

We left Marshall, traveled through Louisiana, and briefly toured Vicksburg. We decided to make it our last destination on our way home. Dusk began and Mom expressed a desire for a good sandwich, so I punched McAllister's Deli into Cody's GPS, and on to Jackson we ventured. We enjoyed our meal, chose the Holiday Inn Express for the evening, planned tomorrow's trip--Savannah, GA it is, and bunked down for the night. The travelling is easy, but we are looking forward to Friday and being tourists.

Getting Ready

With any chance of good luck, Tracy and I will be finished with work tomorrow, and Mom and I can begin to get ready for our road trip through the southeast. This is a "hens only" trip (I said "chicks only," but according to Mom, we are too old to have "chicks" parties anymore). Mom picked several cities to visit and was looking at the route options when we visited tonight. Mom pinpointed Natchez, MS, Savannah, GA, Charleston, SC, Williamsburg, VA, a steam-train ride in Cumberland, MD, and a tour through the Great Smokies National Park. We got her a Nintendo DS (red) with BrainQuest for the rides in between interesting sites and have loaded up on books on tape. Our tires are new, the oil is changed, and clothes have been selected, I just have to finish work and pack. Our first stop--Ginnochio's in Marshall, TX.