Chapter 2: Next shift Doug takes the wheel and the pen…
Once we got our snack on the ride was awesome. Our fabulous new tour vehicle was mad comfy. The trip was going to be a long one but I didn’t mind it so long as I didn’t have to drive through what seemed to be the longest state ever; Tennessee: the land of no Starbucks. We had all our gear with us and some of it was packed in the back seat. Craig somehow managed to tunnel out a good space which looked like a little cave, and since we kept the garbage pail back there and trolls live in caves, whoever inhabited the back seat was dubbed the “garbage troll.” There was some question as to whether it was trolls or goblins that lived in caves. But as its commonly known, goblins live in mines and are often nomadic whereas trolls seem to stay in one place… or do goblins and trolls sometimes cohabitate? I couldn’t remember! The conclusion that we came to, is that it doesn’t really matter and that certain members of Finespun need to stop playing World of Warcraft and maybe leave the house sometimes. You’ll forgive us, as 35 hours in a van makes one a little insane. The rest stops were cool; for those of you who don’t have one local, there’s a place called Sheetz that has these computer stations where you can punch in what you want for breakfast in 72 easy steps which is extra fun when you’re hungry and delirious. Nah- can’t knock Sheetz – good eats there and ready in just a couple of minutes. Nice clean bathrooms too – raise your hand if you try to melt the urinal cake!
Chapter 3: Oren dazed and confused after waking in motion
I awoke dizzy and disoriented somewhere around noon to find Doug behind the wheel, tired, veering onto the rumble strips built into the shoulder of the highway…time for another switch! We drive in shifts like maybe the military does, one driver, one navigator and a shift change means a good 10 minute break of rest area, ammonia filled bathrooms and a leg-stretch, the likes of which you cannot truly appreciate until you spend 10 hours with your feet balanced on top of a snare drum or road case of some sort. With newborn legs and bloodshot eyes, we make our way back into Tiny Elvis for the next thousand hours of driving…our campaign slogan: A sticker on every toll booth, every toilet, rest stop, gas pump and anything you can reach through the front window! Miles to go before we sleep… – soundly anyway!
Tennessee, a long word to spell and again, holy crap a long state to drive. I’m on point and the sun is shining as we enter Knoxville, TN. Nothing but a straight shot now through Nash-Vegas (that’s Nashville for you northerners) all the way past Memphis. Barely into the trip I was already stating that we WOULD BE stopping for gumbo on Beale St on the way back. Somewhere just west of Memphis, our credit card, the one that we were using for gas, got flagged for fraud…as if a cult of gas thieves were touring the country charging their way to greatness. That was a load of fun. A bus full of high school band members and cheerleaders made up for it though! We pulled into the first rest stop we could find before the AK border alongside what I’m going to call the “Band Camp Bus” to an out pouring of high school girls in band T-shirts. We must look like a rock band or something, because they were right on point asking us if we were…we said sure, hang out, we have some free stuff for you! As I jumped into the van, I encountered what shall now be known as The Sleeping Doug.
Read on to the next leg of the trip...!
