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Yesteryear

Monday, October 3, 2022

October 3, 2022

Yesteryear
One year ago today: October 3, 2021, pet blessing day.
Five years ago today: October 3, 2017, the 7-inch dip.
Nine years ago today: October 3, 2013, steamboat stuff.
Random years ago today: October 3, 2007, 21 years, read & weep.

           On the freeway by 6:00AM, another $6 sandwich & coffee. It got steadily lighter all the way to Dalton, that oddball town where I seem to have to gas up no matter what I’m driving. I got a decent breakfast at BK, and if prices don’t improve, I may make BK my regular stop. JZ was on the phone and it is not unusual to hear of people being charged $20 for a meal in many spots, no matter what the sign says. (This is a comment on places that advertise unrealistically low prices.) By mid-morning, I passed Chattanooga, stopping at the North Mall Library in Harris, if you can find it. I got millennialized there. The sign said largest railroad museum, so I turned off the freeway.
           Drove inland, found the gate, drive around for a parking spot, and that’s where I saw it. Right at the ticket booth, a tiny sign in the window. Closed today for private event. Yet, them useless millennials, they can’t send anyone to put the sign out on the freeway access road. That’s always somebody else’s job. They’ll get theirs but what we really need it another war. March these bastards off to take a few hundred thousand casualties. Then when they get back, the rest will have a remarkably improved attitude about living in a free country. A little less entitlement and blaming others is always a good idea for that bunch.

           That library was not so great either. They had no atlas section, for that matter, they had not atlas. Folks, there are some things that just are no good on GPS and long-distance or back-road traveling are two examples. I’ve seen libraries with no research section, but never one without at least some kind of maps. I was seeking local information on the Soddy-Daisey area. It’s full of mountain passes and TVA projects, some of which I’d like to see.
           As for the trip, I stopped for another bite to eat but prices are steep. I made it all the way to Dalton, that town strange because of the three different vehicles I’ve used to travel that route, that’s where I need to stop for gas. There is a sign saying historic district near the freeway. I’ve never had time to search around for it or ask directions once I got into town. Put another sign or two, dammit.

Picture of the day.
Alsace-Lorraine.
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           That road north of Dunlap has always intrigued me as it must head right up the long valley between to ranges. I was right, taking the extra drive up to Pikesville. What a quaint little town. You know you are off the beaten track when the sign on the post office door does not say “Closed”. It says “Shut”. It was some kind of pumpkin festival but I was too early in the day. Consulting the map, I found Highway 30 showing a tortuous route through two ranges eventually arriving in McMinnville, which I’ve never seen.
           Here’s another view of the trains I did not get to see. Through the fence I saw most of the displays did not allow touring the interior. Maybe they think people have never seen trains from the outside before?
           Back to Highway 30, it is indeed a bendy-twisty tract of two-lane roadway. You get the odd little town or group of old buildings along the way, otherwise no straight stretches at all. Stay alert, there are steep canyons five feet away from where you are driving and nobody would find you for days. Averaging maybe 35 mph, that’s road distance. I doubt I moved ahead five miles in some hours. The GPS is fairly useless except to remind you it’s the right road. The lack of road signs must have been fun not that long ago.
           I have the GPS set to avoid toll roads but there is no setting to avoid near-roads. This sent me down some single lane dirt and rock tracks northwest from McMinnville. This computer is acting up about snapshots so I’ll leave those views for another day. Just imagine being sent down a nothing one-lane road notched into a mountain with no guardrails, no place to turn around, and the surface getting progressively worse. In the end, you are driving on two gravel strips and hoping to hell it doesn’t rain. Way to go, Garmin and your staff of half-baked millennials.

Last Laugh