Detour

Exited the interstate in search of a fried chicken lunch and instead found a slice of Americana.

Made good time this morning. Left Macon about 9 and took the second Dalton exit about 11:45. Sign said they had a Bojangles; I wanted a chicken biscuit and had missed breakfast.

So I drove a ways and still didn't see the Bojangles. But I found a Conoco and stopped for gas. Yes, I want a receipt. No, I don't want a car wash.

Glanced up and noticed the street -- State route 71. That would take me right on into Tennessee. No need to backtrack five or six miles to the interstate.

I was driving along at a brisk pace when I noticed my gas cap protector was still open. Sigh. Stop at a gas station. Close it.

Across the state line the road changed to Tennessee Hwy. 60. Just outside of Cleveland, I drove through the little town of Waterville.

I passed the little community elementary school. Saw a couple of diner-like places. Drove by the Baptist church as it was letting out; started humming a few bars of an old Kris Kristofferson tune.

And there's nothing short of dying/Half as lonesome as the sound

Of a sleeping city sidewalk/And Sunday morning coming down...

I like the pace on the backroads. People don't weave in and out of lanes, nearly killing everybody in the process. The leaves were beginning to change; the farmland was beautiful in the late morning sun.

Finally reached Cleveland and overshot the bypass back to the interstate. Pulled into another gas station. A guy pumping gas looked like he'd recently sat in a church pew. He had me back on the interstate in five minutes.

Passed a Hardee's but I didn't feel much like eating. I settled for the Wendy's in Lenoir City an hour later.

The rest of the ride was pretty ho-hum. Seems like every exit looks the same no matter where you are.

Which made me even more thankful for my detour. It does the soul good every now and then to get out there and see how people actually live.