Peaches, Again...

 If it seems like I talk about peaches a lot, feel free to tell me about it.  If God made anything better than peaches He kept it for Himself.  If not for peaches, Earthly Sojourn might be dull indeed.

There are two huge peaches that I know of in America.  There could be more but since I don't know about them they probably do not exist.  Imagine how I felt upon leaving home for the greater world only to discover that peaches grow in other counties and states.  I thought we invented them and owned them.

So many are grown in Spartanburg County, South Carolina that one of the water tanks actually looks like a peach.  How did that happen?  The other large peach stands beside Interstate 65 near Clanton, Alabama.  It turns out that sandy soil, plenty of water and warm weather with a minimum of late spring cold snaps is what really counts.  I am glad it turned out that way.



Peach beside Interstate 85 near Gaffney, SC

The Spam Museum

It always amazes me at how much content there really is off any given interstate exit.

For years we rode through Austin, Minnesota, sticking to Interstate 90 because that is what we do.  Little did we know that only a short distance to the south of exit 178b, in the refurbished remains of an old K-Mart building was one of the truly interesting museums of middle America.

Whether or not Spam is a part of your diet is very much beside the point, as the museum, sponsored by Hormel, explains it history, tracks its success, shows its content and even pokes a little fun at itself.

Next time through Austin, it will be well worth the hour it takes to discover a product that became an American icon.

Nice Ride...

Every now and then, you see a car that just looks so fine, even though you know it's not your style. The boys would like this one, especially if it came with neon lights that reflected off the road at night.

Seeing an automobile like this brings up a larger question: How great is it to live in a nation that not only produces the original, but has the imagination and capacity to upgrade all the improvements?

Is this a great country or what?

Everywhere Signs

There are any number of places in America where major roads cross. It's not too easy to get lost, if you just stay close to the big road and watch the signs.

In Mt Vernon, Illinois, somebody took a sampling of signs and put them all together in one spot. Hopefully, travelers will remember how to get back to the highway.

As we all know, signs can be confusing, especially in Mt Vernon.

End of the peaches

As I said earlier, South Carolina grows far more peaches than Georgia, the self-proclaimed "peach state". Any trip near the small town of McBee, SC is incomplete without a purchase of the delicious fruit from McLeod's Peach Farm. Otherwise, you just feel like something is unfinished.

In previous trips, we have tried transporting two(2) or more cases back home to the Rocky Mountains. We look pretty funny hauling a couple of boxes of peaches into motel rooms every night. No matter how hard we try the peaches always give up before we can get them to our house. Inevitably, we end up eating way too many in an attempt to waste not.

So, when we left South Carolina for the last time this year, as always, we stopped by the Peach Shed on the way out. Knowing that we had that two thousand miles to go, mostly in September when the weather is still warm, we opted to buy only one(1) case of Mac's Pride #1's this time instead of the usual two(2). Good thing.

Nine(9) days later, in Colorado and still two(2) days from home, only three(3) peaches are left, not a one thrown away. I am tempted to declare victory, but not until these last ones are gone.

Mobility is everything, these days

Like I said earlier, small businesses have to find a way to get noticed. And, if you can get seen in more than one place that is even better.

Up in Wisconsin, a place noted for its cheese, this pizza delivery arrangement not only brings dinner but confirms the well being of the American entrepreneurial spirit.

At first, I couldn't tell whether the moose was accidental, a hired hand, a freeloader or just in love. Nevertheless, there he rides, a monument to free enterprise and the great northern woods.

Environmentally sensitive

If you look closely, you can see a mother goose and goslings, crossing a road. It happened as we were madly dashing for Canada, so we could turn around and madly dash back. We turned a corner along with dozens of other travelers who were hurriedly on their way to wherever, and there they were.

I suppose it could be argued that ravelled up in their DNA was the information that deeded that particular piece of real estate to them from their ancestors and so they had a right to be there, no matter that Big Box and several smaller Boxes had built right there on their property without their permission.

Someone got out of a car and yelled "stop" and we all did while they ambled across the dangerous byway to safety. Just for that still moment everyone at that exit understood what was really important in our mad dash world.

Me, in another life

So, whenever my mother-in-law's children, which after a little breaking in period included me, got off track from whatever life pursuit we were supposed to be following, she would invariably accuse us of "going to the mountains to play a flute."

I often wondered exactly how this would play out and what it would actually look like in real life.

A good many of my questions were cleared up the other day when we passed through the mountains of Western North Carolina. And there I was, complete with my faithful dog lying at my feet, wondering what tune I would play next.

Signs of the times

I can remember a time, not so long ago, when just knowing there was a pay phone ahead gave a comforting feeling. Family, friends and emergencies could all be handled by the cling clang of a few coins.

Having to pay for the call insured against getting too longwinded, and seldom was a waiting line so long it could not be endured within a few short minutes.

My, how times have changed. No more queing for the next empty booth. Now we wait behind the person in the car ahead, hoping he won't be too distracted to drive.

Now nobody sticks his head up into the booth squeezing for that tiny bit of privacy. Everyone's conversation is out in the open, like a community discussion.

And those old pay phone stations? Just like a body with no heart...dead as a door nail.

The Long Road

What's wrong with America can easily be discovered by paying close attention to road habits, particularly among the youngsters.

Whenever you see a car with children in the backseat with their eyes glued to a video screen and earphones plugged in, you may feel justified about feeling unsure about the future.

In the 1950's and 60's when we were first crossing the country, a view of the road stretching out in front of the car was an invitation to guess the distance in miles to the farthest point we could see. Everybody guessed and the victor got only the satisfaction of knowing he had won, but usually a conversation followed on geography, geology or history, and sometimes weather. No one dared to look down or go to sleep in daylight for fear of missing the next game or interesting landmark.

That was then, this is now. Technology is great, but it simply does not replace the real world experience that happens from now to the horizon.

The State of Music

We have already established that Georgia has peanuts, South Carolina has peaches and California has wine and a little of everything else. I suppose every state has a trademark item that makes its residents proud.

Wisconsin has cheese, about which more later, Michigan used to have cars and may again someday. Think of horses for Kentucky, hams from Virginia and maple syrup dripping out of Vermont.

But what about Tennessee? Well, the Volunteer state makes music and a lot of it. And the folks that live near I-81 in the eastern hills of Tennessee want everyone to know just how big music is.

Moonshot

It was sometime after we ran into the astronaut, well, we didn't actually run into him, he orbited into us, but I digress, which I do a lot, that we happened upon John Glenn's old jalopy, somewhere in Ohio.

Being on a first name basis with pioneers in the space program means you had better familiarize yourself with what they do in case you get into a long conversation with one of them sometime. I mean, you don't want to let on to how little you really know about man's crowning achievement in the field of space exploration, do you?

So I sat in the driver's seat, turned around backwards to the heat shield while Debby took this picture. I intend to have it made into a snapshot I can carry around in my wallet, so the next time we meet a spaceman I'll be ready, you know, just in case.

Road hazards

The West Virginia Turnpike is curvy, has many hills and a view to much natural beauty. On most days, the ride from Charleston to Beckley produces nothing more exciting than the thrill of counting the Ohioans headed south.

Once in a while, though, around a corner comes the unexpected, even the dangerous. Then you have to decide: hold back, pass on the other side or pitch in.

Since emergency help was on the way, we pulled over and took pictures. Nobody was hurt, but there sure was a mess to clean up.

Travel is a lot like life. You really never know what is ahead, so don't be afraid to slow down and pull over. Take pictures so you will remember the close calls.

Milestone

Well, then. Twenty years later, it is safe to say we have come a long way, unless you don't consider a million miles all that far, I mean everything is relative, right? When we started out we had no idea where publishing the Next EXIT would lead, only that it would take us all over the country, and it has done that, over and over.

The idea was father to the fact and after six years of collecting highway information we offered it to the public in 1991, and every year since, updated. It was accepted.

We have seen new services open and proliferate and old businesses close their doors. Roads have widened and extra exits have been added to accomodate what might be 'America's best idea', the interstate highways. I agree with Ike when he said, and I paraphrase, "the growth of a nation ought not to be hampered by poor transportation," or something similar.

So where to from here? I still cannot say exactly, but this much I know: In January of 2011, we will be headed east on Interstate 40, updating as we go. We hope you will go with us.

Peanut State

I thought Georgia was the Peach State but maybe not. My father, a farmer, once told me that just one county in South Carolina produced more peaches than the entire state to its southwest and yet Georgia had laid claim to the delicious fruit for itself. Neither state produces as many as California and the term "Georgia Peach" nowadays might be confused with "Georgia Belle."

Peanuts is another matter. Hands down Georgia wins this one, growing nearly one-half of the nation's crop. There is a peanut lobby and an anti-peanut lobby. An anti-peanut lobby? Who ever thought peanuts would get into politics?

Nuts is not what they are, though. Nuts come from trees and peanuts grow under the ground, a legume, if you will. Parch them, roast them, grind them into peanut butter, some folks say they will erase hunger around the world.

Boiled peanuts are a staple, nay, a delicacy, all over the South. What beach trip is complete without boiled peanuts? Everybody doesn't feel this way, though. When I reverently mention boiled peanuts to my friends in Idaho all I get is blank stares. Boiled potatoes, now that is a different story.

There were giants

Blue Earth, Minnesota is fairly typical of many of the towns laced together by Interstate 90. Lots of them are county seats, commerce centers and nearly all, at least in Minnesota, are surrounded by fertile farmland.

Blue Earth stands out because, like the golden spike of the transcontinental railroad, the two construction crews working from east and west met near here in 1978 to complete the route that stretches from Boston to Seattle, longest 4-lane highway in America.

Unlike the Golden Spike Monument, however, this spot is guarded by a huge green giant.

Sideshow

Every now and then, we get stuck at an exit. It may be time for a sandwich, time to walk through the warehouse club, time for gas or Debby just needs to wander through a fabric store. Fabric is really just an upgraded term for "cloth," but I digress, which I do a lot. Nevertheless, do not ever call fabric "cloth" in the presence of a true seamstress upon penalty of drawing back a bloody nub.

Now as I was saying, any number of things can bog you down at an exit, but sometimes they are worth the bog. Consider this incident late last summer in Virginia. We stumbled into one of those developments where people, usually young city dwellers, live, work, shop and play without ever having to go more than a couple of blocks. It was late afternoon and a really good band complete with dancers was saturating the airwaves with vibes of joy. A block party had developed, right in the heart of it all.

We heard the thump thump a couple of blocks away and drove in to get a better look. Before we knew it, there we stood on the courtyard with all the other revelers, swaying and nodding to the beat. Some folks danced while others twirled with young children. Some participated and some just watched. Summertime was everywhere and for that moment at least, it was good to be stuck.

The Real West

In the USA, where does the East become the West, the West become the East and how broad is the middle? That depends on which route you travel.

My personal view is where the tree line begins/ends and that does not happen in only a mile or two. The Big River crossing might mark the spot, but Vicksburg, Memphis, St Louis or Minneapolis look similar on both banks.

Furthermore, a straight line from north to south won't work, because well, nature just didn't cooperate. Maybe a better way is to say "where farming becomes ranching" or the reverse, somewhere right in there is where it happens.

Of course, there are landmarks which tell us what the local folks think. On Interstate 94 in North Dakota, if you catch a glimpse of Salem Sue, you are in the West!

Low country

Heat, humidity, low elevation and oh yes, plenty of rain...staples of the low country. Places with these conditions are home to spanish moss. Did you know that when it grows on a pine tree it may eventually kill the tree? Not so for its preferred host, the Southern Live Oak, for it is difficult to outdistance a tree which lives 500 years.

In a moment of nostalgia, one year we brought spanish moss home to our kitchen in the Rocky Mountains. Proudly we hung it from our kitchen curtain rod, providing alternating sun and shade, optimum light, we thought.

It said no and proceded to shrivel from gray and dangling to brown and powdery. Finally the crumbles were swept down the disposal. It was kind of sad, but the lesson was learned. Now when we long for the low country we head south and turn left on Interstate 10. Somewhere east of Houston we can count on striking it rich.

Visibility

What most businesses need, besides lower taxes and more customers, is visibility. People have to know who you are and what you do.

You can tell them by the radio, the TV, the computer or you can put up a big sign.

Or, you can stand a big truck on its head, and hope they get the picture.