Crossing the Line: The Road Trip is Complete

As the light left the sky Wednesday evening, Klep pointed to the line of mountains to our east and told me that the state line ran across the top of them. North Carolina was actually in sight. We set out Thursday, traveling through the last few small towns in Tennessee scattered among the ever taller mountains. We followed the French Broad River as we climbed toward the top of the mountains passing fields of hay, gardens, and travelling through roads with curves and climbs that can make a person catch his breath.

Colors were brilliant in the morning sunlight and a few white fluffy clouds floated in a bright blue sky. We passed through Newport, Tennessee with its stone buildings and colorful past that has tales of running shine all way to Chicago and the alleged connection to mobsters during the years of prohibition. We had already done the Newport things several years ago during our Thunder Road phase.

All too soon we rounded a curve and the sign for North Carolina was in our sight. We had crossed the state the long way.

We briefly contemplated turning around and heading back to Memphis for some more barbecue, but instead we crossed over to Hot Springs, turned north toward Tennessee and headed to our second home passing through some more of East Tennessee. We had a late lunch at Jubilee in Church Hill where we enjoyed a chat with a couple of EMTs from the area while we waited for our table overlooking the tree with the bird feeders. After a delicious lunch, we went by the hollar house to check out the lilac and burning bushes that we had set out in April. Everything was thriving. I think Klep knew that if he ever let me unpack the car that we would be there for several days, so he got me back in the car and we headed south. We made one more quick stop at the Golden Dairy for traveling treats.

We drove through the late afternoon enjoying the view of lakes and mountains, crossing over into Georgia before we stopped for our last evening on the road. Already we missed the little towns with their courthouse squares, the miles of rolling countryside, the tree tunnels and waterfalls, the blooming Althea's and hydrangeas and the thousands of pink blossomed mimosa trees which had dotted our way. Three hundred and fifty miles up the road was home. The next day we pulled into the driveway, unloaded the car, and slept in our own bed.