Saturday, August 11, 2007

Fear of Flying

Driving from Austin to Vicksburg is a little bit scary, just knowing how unsafe our nation's highways can be. But the truly frightening leg of my trip was Day 2, from Vicksburg, MS, to Atlanta, GA.

Unlike Day 1, Day 2 was spent entirely in Interstate 20, which has a fairly steady speed limit of 70 mph. Occasionally it drops down to 55 for construction or a larger town, like Birmingham, Al, but it's mainly at 70 the whole trip. This seems like a blessing at first, but there were several times yesterday that I got completely road blind, lulled by the beautiful, but monotonous landscape of pine trees, and snapped to only by realising that I was flying along at 90, something my brand news tires not only allowed, but encouraged. Whenever I would have to put on the brakes my car completely resisted, and at times I felt like I was coming up off the pavement, I was moving so fast.

The trip was pretty uneventful. All of the gas stations sell Confederate flag stickers, which is kind of funny, and occasionally, there would be good signage to laugh at, but Interstate 20 through Mississippi and Alabama passes by towns, not through them (even Birmingham), and the scenery is primarily 50 foot virgin pine trees that line the sides of the road, so thick they even hide the Western bound side.

I did get to pass through Talledega National Forest in Alabama, and it is really beautiful. I rolled down the windows for that patch. It had just rained and the smell of the pines was amazing. I had forgotten how the South smelled. There are lots of pine trees in Mississippi, and the air always smelled damp and faintly of pine, like rich forest soil. Mississippi and Alabama are nothing if not lush and verdant.

Three good signs:

1. Somewhere in Mississippi, "NHOP". You mean I can't get crepes there?
2. Oxford, Alabama, "Love Stuff: A Touch of Class for Adults"
3. Ranburne, Alabama, "TNT sold here" This was funny to me mainly because the "TNT" was a huge red and yellow cartoon explosion, followed by docile little black letters that said "sold here". Also, I don't seen many dynamite stores, so it was unique.

Once you pass Birmingham, it's only about two hours to Atlanta. At the time, I was rocking out in the car to the best of George Micheal. I was listening to the song "Hard Day" and singing along as loud as I could (at this point, I was exhausted; the music helped; don't judge me). At the exact second that the song clicked off, I crested a hill, and for the fist time, downton Atlanta was visible. The sight made my breath catch in my throat, it was so beautiful. The entire city was laid out before me, visible only through a tunnel carved into a thick forest of the tallest pine trees imaginable. A split second later, and I am not making this up, the next song started to play. It was "Faith", of all things, with that swelling organ music for the introduction. This conicided exactly, perfectly, with the sprawling view of Atlanta before me. It couldn't have been a more beautiful moment if I have made it up. A moment later, as George started to sing, I rounded the bend and the view was gone.

Soon after I was in Atlanta and then at Traci's. We hauled in my stuff, ate and watched wrestling, and I unpacked a little. I passed out completely, until Mooky called me this morning before his bedtime. Today Traci is going to drive me around Decatur, show me a route to my library, and we will also begin out quest for good Mexican food in Atlanta. pray for us.

1 comment:

eva said...

good luck with settling in and the hunt for the elusive enchiladas and taco joint.