Discover Smith Mountain Lake
WINTER 2015/16
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So it was that I surprised both of us by
saying “Yes”, when offered the opportunity
to accompany him on a road trip to drop
his daughter off at college. I began to
question my own mental health as soon as
he explained our itinerary.
Dave’s daughter Rebel (yes, that’s her real
name) is my God-daughter. I take the honor
and the duty seriously, so I have a special
interest in her. That was my initial thought
when I agreed to join them on the trip. It
was only afterward that I realized my error.
I need to pause here in order to give a little
background. One may wish to read about
our trip to Carlisle, PA in the December,
2013 issue of Discover SML, in
which I discuss Dave’s preferences
for hotel accommodations, among
other things.
More recently, in the summer of
2014, we had journeyed together to
our hometown on Long Island so
that I could attend the 60th birthday
party of a dear friend. He claimed at
the time to have been planning a trip
up there on the same weekend, but
I have my suspicions. In any event,
we connected with a few old friends,
one of whom joined us for a night
of drunken revelry that started out as
“let’s have a beer before dinner”, and
culminated in a cab ride home. We
never made it to dinner.
These things only surfaced in my
mind after it was too late to say “no”.
With my dear wife’s blessing, we
planned the trip. We would travel
by car to Sherman Texas, which is in
a northern region of the Lone Star
State, just south of the Oklahoma border.
Our trip would take us through Memphis,
TN. Dave thought it would be fun to stop
there for the night, and visit Graceland. I
felt the sudden urge to roll my eyes, but
outwardly remained serious.
After a day touring Elvis’s estate and visiting
Beale Street, we would continue on to San
Antonio, which is in the southern portion
of Texas, about 150 miles from the Mexican
border. This was actually Rebel’s idea, so
that we could also visit the Alamo. The
apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Just as I was acclimating myself to the idea of
this rather circuitous route, Dave dropped
the other shoe: We would take a slightly
different route home, with stops in Florida
to visit some old friends in the panhandle,
and then on to Dave’s Mom’s house on the
Gulf Coast near Tampa.
Among his quirks, Dave prefers to travel
the interstate highways after dark. His
reasoning is that there is less traffic, fewer
construction delays, and more opportunity
to travel at maximum safe speed. While I see
his point, something about climbing into a
car at bedtime and rocketing down a dark
highway just doesn’t appeal to me.
We left my house at the lake at 7:30 on a
Monday evening. The engine in Dave’s
trusty Kia SUV had blown a connecting
rod a few days prior, so he rented a late
model car, which was both a blessing and a
curse. We were blessed that his engine had
elected to devour itself BEFORE the trip,
as opposed to during. Mind you, we were
taking Rebel to college, and so we had to
bring all of her college life necessities with
us.
These happened to include a second hand
dorm room refrigerator, which dominated
the rear seat of this vehicle. Dave looked at
me crossly, because I had foolishly packed a
small suitcase with such unnecessary items
as shirts, socks, and underwear, which now
had to be wedged in with the future contents
of Rebel’s college dorm room. I made an
offhand sarcastic remark about choosing a
larger car, whereupon he announced that
this was the larger choice.
We managed to fit everything in the car,
including Rebel, so it worked out well
enough. I am not very often the tallest man
in any room, but I had to scrunch myself
down in an uncomfortable position to avoid
hitting my head on the door opening upon
entering and exiting the vehicle. So we
began a 10 day road trip.
Darkness was soon upon us as we made our
way into Tennessee. Our first stop was at a
remote liquor store in the hills, where many
varieties of rare and expensive
bourbon line the shelves. I don’t
share Dave’s appreciation for the
subtle differences between Jim
Beam and anything that costs up
to $1000 a bottle, so I waited in
the car.
Tennessee is a VERY long state.
This leg of the trip included a
stop and a quick nap in the car at
a rest area in God-Knows-Where,
Tennessee; we arrived in Memphis
well after dawn, at about 8:30 AM.
Our timing was perfect, since we
couldn’t check into the hotel until
2:00 that afternoon. So we had
breakfast, then took a quick trip
across the border into Mississippi,
just so that we could say we had
been there. It was literally just a
few miles away. Then it was off to
Graceland.
I have to admit that it was a
lot more enjoyable than I had
imagined. After learning of his
generosity, humility, and his dedication
to his family, I have a newfound respect
for Elvis Presley. As the day wore on, I
became increasingly concerned that others
in our tour group would not appreciate our
company on this hot August day after going
more than 24 hours without attending to
personal hygiene.
It would do a tremendous disservice to the
experience of the tour and Elvis’s legacy to
attempt to give a description of Graceland.
I’ll just say that it was eye-opening and
well worth the time invested, even for
the most casual of fans. The tour includes
several buildings in addition to the main
R AD
WEARIER
n our younger days, my best friend Dave and I enjoyed taking road trips. Part of it was a
celebration of our newly found freedom, since we were young men with drivers’ licenses
and our own cars. Another part was the novelty of traveling to new places, and/or visiting
distant friends and relatives. As our devoted readers know, for Dave, there is also a serious case
of wanderlust. For me: not so much.
So it is that our trips became fewer and farther between, especially when we became separated
by long distance. At that point, road trips became necessary in order for us to spend time with
each other.
My lack of enthusiasm for gadding about the country had caused me to fend off recent
suggestions from Dave that we resume our travels together. This is due in part to the fact
that I am self-employed, and rather busy at it. Dave, on the other hand, is a retired air traffic
controller. I will leave the attendant remarks about mental stability to the reader’s imagination.
O
