Another chilly night, but I guess I should be grateful, hearing about the cold and flooding that is going on back home in PA. I search and find the local town post office to drop off a bit of mail and then I jump back on I-40 by 10 AM—a new record.
Tennessee is a long state. I came in the southwest corner and will exit from the northeast corner, so I expect to still be here when night falls.
At lunchtime, it has warmed up nicely and I pull into a nice rest area and park among the 18-wheelers in one of those long, diagonal pull-through parking spaces. A big truck pulls in beside, but a little behind me due to the diagonal arrangement. From my seat at the dining table, I am looking straight across the front end of his truck. As soon as he stops and shuts off his engine, three sparrows fly up and land on his grill. They flit in, grab a juicy morsel, then fly down to the concrete to munch it down. The bugs are out and these intrepid sparrows know where to find a hot meal! I guess they might be cleaning DD’s grill, too, because I find their calling cards on DD’s front body work the next time I do a walkaround.
Today I hear on the radio of the shootings at Virginia Tech. Such a tragedy. I end the day parked in a shopping center parking lot in Bristol, Virginia, about a hundred miles from Blacksburg and Virginia Tech.
There is a cluster of RVs parked near the entrance to the lot, but I elect to park off in a far
corner. After I am all set up for dinner and a night’s rest, an old school bus with out-of-state plates and the school name on the side obliterated by black spray paint, pulls up beside me. There are four men and a dog in the bus. They are all bearded with long hair under knit hats pulled down over their ears. The worn-out jeans, camo pants, and old army coats or similar are all dirty. The youngest looks to be mid 20s, the oldest a senior citizen (perhaps a bit older than me), and the other two in between. It looks like four generations of the same unkempt person.
They go in and out of the bus singly and in pairs in all directions, perhaps to window shop at the numerous surrounding businesses and restaurants. A couple of them exit the bus to greet a balder fellow with a fuller, longer beard, who is wearing a windbreaker and is accompanied by a 20ish blonde with a scarf over her hair. They all go on board the bus. Later, three of them walked a long way across the lots, apparently to a Golden Corral restaurant. I can’t imagine what they are doing, but they keep coming and going all evening, and apparently are here for the night. My imagination is probably running away with me, but I’m a little nervous.
Tennessee is a long state. I came in the southwest corner and will exit from the northeast corner, so I expect to still be here when night falls.
At lunchtime, it has warmed up nicely and I pull into a nice rest area and park among the 18-wheelers in one of those long, diagonal pull-through parking spaces. A big truck pulls in beside, but a little behind me due to the diagonal arrangement. From my seat at the dining table, I am looking straight across the front end of his truck. As soon as he stops and shuts off his engine, three sparrows fly up and land on his grill. They flit in, grab a juicy morsel, then fly down to the concrete to munch it down. The bugs are out and these intrepid sparrows know where to find a hot meal! I guess they might be cleaning DD’s grill, too, because I find their calling cards on DD’s front body work the next time I do a walkaround.
Today I hear on the radio of the shootings at Virginia Tech. Such a tragedy. I end the day parked in a shopping center parking lot in Bristol, Virginia, about a hundred miles from Blacksburg and Virginia Tech.
There is a cluster of RVs parked near the entrance to the lot, but I elect to park off in a far
corner. After I am all set up for dinner and a night’s rest, an old school bus with out-of-state plates and the school name on the side obliterated by black spray paint, pulls up beside me. There are four men and a dog in the bus. They are all bearded with long hair under knit hats pulled down over their ears. The worn-out jeans, camo pants, and old army coats or similar are all dirty. The youngest looks to be mid 20s, the oldest a senior citizen (perhaps a bit older than me), and the other two in between. It looks like four generations of the same unkempt person.They go in and out of the bus singly and in pairs in all directions, perhaps to window shop at the numerous surrounding businesses and restaurants. A couple of them exit the bus to greet a balder fellow with a fuller, longer beard, who is wearing a windbreaker and is accompanied by a 20ish blonde with a scarf over her hair. They all go on board the bus. Later, three of them walked a long way across the lots, apparently to a Golden Corral restaurant. I can’t imagine what they are doing, but they keep coming and going all evening, and apparently are here for the night. My imagination is probably running away with me, but I’m a little nervous.
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