Saturday, June 27

The Great Smokey Mountains

When I finally see the signs for THE GREAT SMOKEY MOUNTAINS NATIONAL PARK, I know that I am within hollering distance of home...  of course, that is just an expression so please don't understand me...


We pulled into our driveway (actually backed making it easier to unload) in exactly 6 hours and 40 minutes after leaving our Resort in South Myrtle Beach and that time includes stopping for gas and coffee and making two additional pit stops to change drivers.  And, my speed (on average) was only 5 miles above the speed limit...  although for a few minutes, I drove both faster and slower depending upon the situation...  I saw a dozen highway patrolmen (excuse me ladies) both in marked and unmarked vehicles all of which had stopped cars to give them tickets...  and, each time I saw one, I thought about "defunding police departments," and wish they would include these guys...   as I have paid more than my fair share of speeding tickets.

Going down to Myrtle Beach, our 2015 Venza got 26.8 mpg...  only 22.3 while down at the beach...  and, 26.1 coming back which I attribute to climbing the mountains of North Carolina and East TN as opposed to descending the mountains of both those States.

Two of our 3 cats greeted us once they recognized our voices but our Siamese has remained hidden as he gets his feeling's hurt whenever we leave for more than a day and typically stays out-of-our-sight or at least until bedtime as punishment...  but, once he gets over his feline feelings, he acts like we were never out of his sight.

Six and a half hours is not a long drive, but it is long enough to illustrate a subtle reminder to me as to how much I hate driving nowadays whether the road is full of "asshole drivers" or polite ones.  Driving for me has got to be a function of age now and all I really care about when I get behind the wheel is thinking I would feel a lot better if someone drove for me.

My father was just the opposite...  Once he was behind the wheel...  he was in charge and in control and did not stop driving until he was 87 after misjudging his turning radius requirements...  and, to the die he died, he could not understand how that happened.

IT IS NICE TO BE BACK HOME...

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