ON THE ROAD: ELVIS? GEORGIA?

Jackson, TN to Shawnee, OK | 523 miles
35.384 N | 96.910 W

Approaching the land of the green chile!!!

Early this morning, Chip asked me about passing through Memphis on I-40.

"We're not going through Memphis," I said.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

I was sure. I looked every day at GoogleMaps to plan our route. Unfortunately GoogleMaps seems to think Memphis is Cordova. LOL

Well, Memphis means Graceland, right? I also realized this morning that we were passing within 80 miles of Crystal Bridges Art Museum in Arkansas, where Georgia O'Keeffe's art collection is now on display.

As we approached Cordova, I mean Memphis, time was slipping away. We had to choose between Elvis and Georgia. I figured there's a good chance of being back in Memphis, little chance of being in Fort Smith again. We passed on through Cordova and into Arkansas.

A few unfortunate stops, some clogged roadways, and, as we approached the turnoff to Crystal Bridges, I could see we weren't going to make it to the museum either -- and it is closed tomorrow. Sigh. No Elvis. No Georgia.

We passed silently into Oklahoma.

Oklahoma doesn't offer much on I-40 before OK City, so we pressed on, right up to sunset and stopped in Shawnee where the temperature is plummeting into the teens tonight. BRRR.

In compensation for our sad near misses, the sun welcomed us to the land of the big sky.

Pretty.

WOW.

ON THE ROAD: ELVIS WHISPERS

Kingsport to Jackson, TN | 406 miles
35.662 N | 88.86 W

I can tell you, Tennessee is a very long state. We drove 406 miles of it today, racing to get past the winter storm that's marching toward the east coast. The temperature hovered high enough to give us rain instead of snow through the mountainous stretches.

A blanket of clouds hung above us all day, sometimes snagging in the bare trees, sometimes descending onto mountaintops ahead of us.

We rumbled along in our glass bubble, admiring the beauty of Tennessee, its hills, its horses, its bucolic scenes. For one moment, the clouds parted, and the sun shined on a hill in the distance.

We approached Nashville midday and stopped to see if we wanted to stick around for the night. The clouds were thick and drippy, but there was no rain. I'll give it to Nashville: they've got a personality going. It did not look like every other town in America. They've preserved their historic buildings and blinged them up with neon signs, a pleasant jumble of old and not as old. Nashville has some guts, some grit, although I had a hinky feeling I was walking around in a movie set.

I stopped to hear what Elvis had to say.

He said Nashville deserved more than a one-night stand. We thought Elvis was right, and so we left.

Tennessee got colder as we headed into the storm. Ice collected in the treetops, thankfully not on the road.

At the end of another long day, we stopped in Jackson, which does look like every other town in America, and delivered our life raft to brand-new cruisers who bought it from our blog.

May they never, ever use it.

ON THE ROAD: A CHANGING PALETTE

Kingsport, TN
36.505 N | 82.432 W

This morning, at 8:16, we untied the lines and set off in our land vessel, a VW Jetta that Chip has named Terra Mia. Destination: New Mexico.

For three years, we have traveled by water at 5 mph. Today, by 9 a.m., we had covered the distance that by boat would have taken the entire day. By 10 a.m., we had whisked from Delaware to Maryland to Virginia, a path that took us over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge (instead of under it), around D.C., where the Mormon Temple loomed up ahead.

The city gave way to fields and hours slowly passed. The winter storm moved off without notice, and left a clear path down the Shenandoah Valley, dry and brilliant, blue mountains against a pale sky. At 70 mph we watched through a bubble of glass as the trees flew by around us, as clouds streaked white, gained weight and turned steely gray.

The sun faded as we pulled in to Kingsport, Tennessee, road weary, a weary I never felt after a long day afloat. Way over here, three states away, I miss the water, the blue, the birds, the dolphins. I love the trees, the mountains, the barns and cows. I sorely miss the freedom of moving about the boat when I'm off watch and cooking a hot meal at anchor at the end of the day. I relish the luxury of a hot shower and lounging in a king-size bed without worrying about anchors or currents or shifting tides.

I saw a flock of birds wending south and part of me wished I was tagging along. But three years of south begs for a change in direction, so off we go to the west, to look, to see, to know. The palette has changed, the air has grown cold, and movement stirs the soul. West again tomorrow.

"Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe." --Anatole France

GOODBYE, GIRL!

Annapolis, MD

Cara Mia peeking out from behind a little blue boat.

The winter sun cut across the water, casting our sweet girl, Cara Mia, in warm, gold light. She was looking spectacular.

We put the last of our belongings on a dock cart and took a moment to tell her goodbye. She will be left in the hands of our broker as we take a four-month driving tour of the U.S. Will she still be ours when we return? Nobody knows.

Just in case, we told her goodbye.

A bittersweet moment for us, leaving her behind as we plan for our next big adventure -- the one we haven't announced yet. In the meantime, we are setting off on a cruise across the U.S. by car, departure as soon as we have a weather window.

That yellow line is our path.

Seriously. Do you think Chris Parker does land routing?

So buckle up, folks, and get ready for plodding in land paradise. There are surprises ahead.

Goodbye, East Coast. Take care of our beautiful girl.