[NOTE: This happened weeks ago. As I write this, I’m in San Francisco, and it’s pretty awesome. ]
I got up pretty early. The parking lot was empty. I had breakfast at a little truck stop before getting out of Greater St. Louis.
This was going to be another long day, but as I passed through southern Illinois I thought that a stop in Metropolis would be a worthwhile diversion. Walden needed to be photographed in front of the Man of Steel.
Just before noon I pulled into Kentucky. As it turns out, Kentucky is a good place to buy bourbon. On my trip in September, I had found a great little discount liquor store where bottles of rotgut bourbon were cheaper than wine in Utah. Better still, really nice bottles of bourbon were also available for a song. In retrospect, I wish that had I spent a bit more time to find my favorite Kentucky liquor store, because I am not that sure that I got that great a deal. Nonetheless, buying bourbon seemed like a fine thing to do in Kentucky.
Sometime after I had crossed the Tennessee border and stopped for gas, I noticed a bit more oil under Walden than should be there in a quick refueling. I topped up the oil, bought a couple of spare quarts, and hoped we would make it back to Knoxville. Still en route, I got on the phone and made an appointment with the best VW mechanic in Knoxville for the following Monday morning.
By about 6:30 I had arrived at my friend’s house in Knoxville. Hugs were exchanged and beers were opened. For most of the next week, I would be in one of the places that I call home.