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.