Banjos could signify doomPosted on October 22nd, 2007 after 10789 miles by Dean Croshere.
“Kapow! Fwoosh! Zingg!” said Hobbes, "the trees are like natures own fireworks display."
It was time to pull off the highway. Time to find that shot. I had been driving through the beautiful red and yellow trees for hours, unable to stop and take pictures. I was on an Interstate after all. Interestingly, I don’t mind them nearly as much now as I did before I got to the east coast.
Still, I had to take an exit in what looked like the middle of nowhere before I started driving around looking for a place to take pictures.
In Tennessee, every exit is a highway. In fact, just about every road is a highway.
Anyway, I exited the highway after I exited the freeway. I drove around in the middle of nowhere Tennessee for a couple of hours before I found the spot. A long dirt road that wound its way around a hill, the lower side of which was beautifully covered by changing trees.
My ears perked for the sounds of banjos that might signify my coming doom at the hands of hillbillys, I managed to get some pictures I was proud of.
After I jumped in my car, I realized how lost I was. I had no idea where I was, which direction I was facing (it was overcast), or which way the freeway was from me. I drove around for a while before I pulled off behind a church that had a van that said where it was from.
I knew where I was. Now I just had to map it with my phone.
Unfortunately, the error for “that location does not exist” and “could not connect to the Internet” is the exact same thing, “directions could not be found.” I had a good network connection, so each time it told me “directions could not be found,” I just assumed I was wrong about my location. I kept driving about looking for a better indication of where I was.
There is also a bug in the Google Maps application on my phone where occasionally the phone will refuse to connect to the network. It happens most often when trying to use it with a spotty connection as I had been for a while.
I finally found a post office with its exact address printed on the side of the building. When I was still unable to get the phone to recognize this location, I realized it was probably that bug. After resetting the phone, the search worked and I was able to map my way home.
By home, I mean Atlanta.
In the near future I knew I had to get to Alabama. This is for reasons I will explain later.
Since I was headed to Alabama, Atlanta seemed like a nice central location. To add to the benefit, I had another place to stay in Atlanta so I could get a chance to check out the town a different way.
Shortly after arriving, I realized I had lost my debit card at a gas station at some point on that drive. I called in to cancel the card.
The lady asked me, “what city state did you lose the card?”
“well, uh, I’m not exactly sure. I think it was Kentucky.”
“Lets see, it also could have been Tennessee or Georgia.”
“and which city in those states”
“I have absolutely no idea. Let me check.” Luckily I write down what city I fill up in so I can put it on this site. Unluckily I delete them after I put that fill up online. I had already put it online.
“Nope, I guess I don’t know.”
Anyway, she cancelled my card and sent a new one to my parents place back in California. It was about time anyway. The card expired at the end of the month, the magnetic strip was splitting lengthwise, and the signature strip had long sense been stripped down to say “void.” The fact that I was still able to use the card (until I lost it) does not engender faith in the safety of the security features of such cards. I mean, isn’t the word “void” supposed to mean something?
I now have no good method of getting cash until I get that card. I hope what I have will last me for a while.
This time in Atlanta we headed to “Stone Mountain,” site of one of the worlds largest rock carvings. Naturally the carving is a Civil War Confederate memorial.
I was more interested in the complete lack of originality in the name of the Mountain. Why specify that a mountain is made of stone? Were the people who named it under the impression that most mountains were made of cheese?
We headed to the viewing platform and snapped a few shots of the memorial before leaving to go hike up the far side.
On the way out, there was a butterfly that appeared to be on its last legs. It allowed me to snap a bunch of pictures before he tried to fly away.
He didn’t get far.
We moved on.
The hike was nice and refreshing. The whole way up there were places where people had carved their names + that of their lovers. Poor Nick here will wait into eternity for his lover.
A mile a half both ways, I don’t know how much elevation change there was. It doesn’t really matter, as Boxer did not come along.
Up top, there were some nice views of Atlanta.
You could also look down to see the viewing platform we had just been at an hour or so before (on the bottom left of the picture).