One of the teeth-gritting moments involved a little jog off our track to drive into the town square of Harrisonburg, Virginia, where I took a photo of the grand old building that's been standing there since long before my college days. The Yard Man found no value in this activity whatsoever. "It will add about a half-hour to our trip!" he huffed, when I made the suggestion that we drive through the town. And then we were back on our route in less than ten minutes, Reader Dear! He had to eat his hat. Or, well, he would have if I'd insisted (I like to believe).
Instead he ate chicken. It was much later, in Tennessee, when we'd reached a spot where the clouds were lingering around the mountaintops, The Yard Man said he had a hankering to eat The Colonel's food.
I ate the finger lickin' stuff, too, and after that we had a very scenic final leg of our journey.
can you actually see that disappearing arc in the
sky, Viewer Dear?!