The day I left Charleston, I passed through a cold front on my way to Augusta, and the rain began. I spent a surprisingly cold night at a barebones RV park in Augusta, then headed on to Atlanta, or to be more precise, Milton, about an hour north of central Atlanta. I had friends in Atlanta to visit, and as it turned out, my RV spent a lot more time there than I did.
I had a couple adventures on the drive from Augusta to Atlanta. I stopped for fuel at a wide spot in the road. As I walked from my RV to prepay for the fuel, I heard, “That’s a mighty nice truck you’ve got there.” Attractive blonde lady, well dressed, mid-thirties, charming Georgia accent, standing alongside her BMW; something about the way she’d made the remark told me she knew the value of a Mercedes. She was also aggressively smoking a cigarette, which for me always nullifies any beauty a woman may possess. I thanked her for the compliment and gave her my usual spiel: five months on the road, going on 16,000 miles, having a great time. “All by yourself?” she asked. Yes, that’s right, I replied without any elaboration. “Where are you going next?” Atlanta. “Well, you’re on the wrong road for Atlanta.” I said this was the way my GPS had sent me, and forgot to mention my actual goal was Milton, which probably accounted for the difference. We then had a fairly lengthy conversation about how she knew the way, she went to Atlanta all the time, and I should backtrack about five miles. She seemed very concerned, almost overly concerned, about my route, or at least in prolonging the conversation. I thanked her, politely excused myself, and continued on into the store. When I came out, she was gone. Now it’s entirely likely, most probable in fact, that she was just being as helpful as she could be. But, I can’t shake the feeling there was some unspoken agenda I was too naive to pick up.
My other adventure rather pales in comparison. Since starting to use it in New Mexico, I had always found my GPS program to be absolutely reliable and effective. Now, in the middle of nowhere, it had me turn from a nice two-lane highway onto a narrow side road. The poorly-maintained pavement soon turned to gravel, then to muddy ruts. I wasn’t sure what I could do if I met a vehicle coming the other way. It occurred to me the lady at the gas station may have been right about the wrong way to Atlanta, but there was nowhere to turn around. I nearly despaired when I had to ford a small stream running across the road. But the road began to widen again, and finally, thankfully, intersected a paved road the GPS said I should turn onto. I am pretty sure the previous highway would have intersected this one a mile further on. The GPS had saved me a couple miles, given me a harrowing adventure, and provided for a thorough coating of mud on the RV.
There was one more adventure that I just missed having. I made it to the home of my friends, Gary and Freeda, in Milton, just as the rain turned to snow. I’d been as far north as Alberta’s Icefields Parkway in October, but it took Milton Georgia in late February to coat my RV with snow like this by the next morning:
Though it had been years since I’d seen them, Gary and Freeda made me feel like one of the family, treated me to a home cooked meal, and insisted I take a spare bedroom in their house - for which I was very thankful. Here’s a photo of the three of us:
Gary and I were in the Ph.D. program together at Georgia Tech, and he went on to a successful career in aerospace. I was particularly grateful that they’d agreed to let me park my RV at their place ( and plug in for the refrigerator ) while I flew to Omaha for my aunt’s memorial service. I'd barely had time to enjoy their company when less than 36 hours after I arrived, they graciously drove me to the station for the Atlanta metro that would take me to the airport for my flight. The same weather that had brought the snow was still wreaking havoc with airports and I arrived in Chicago an hour too late for my connection to Omaha. I was informed the next possible flight to Omaha was 24 hours later; I was going to spend the night in Chicago. Because weather is “an act of God”, the airline wouldn’t pay for a hotel room, but gave me a coupon that MIGHT get me a discounted room. Is it any wonder I felt the universe was mocking me when, just after I’d received that information, I saw this sign in the airport:
Things began to look up, though. The coupon got me a room in a five star hotel, with free shuttle service, for the price of a room at a discount motel. I relished the luxury, and had a fabulous dinner and breakfast in the hotel restaurant. My flight to Omaha was uneventful and it was nice to be with family. The delay hadn’t caused me to miss anything. It was clear, though, the universe-of-signs wasn’t happy things had turned out well. Touring an antique candy store in Omaha’s Old Market with my daughters a couple days later, I came across this:
My return flight to Atlanta (uneventful) wasn’t the end of my flitting about. A Ph.D. student at UCSD whom I had co-advised scheduled his thesis defense for March 17th, and the department required that I attend in person rather than Skype in. This would be my last official responsibility to the University. Gary and Freeda not only welcomed me to stay with them for the intervening week until I left for San Diego, but were fine having my van continue to park in their driveway for the additional week I was away. That week between trips was the perfect blend of rest and activity. Gary and Freeda had busy schedules of their own. I was glad they felt comfortable leaving me behind when necessary to enjoy the comfort of their house, and for including me in their plans when they could. It gave me the secure sense that I wasn’t being too much of an imposition.
On Friday the 6th, I drove down to Georgia Tech to visit my Ph.D. thesis advisor, Tom. Here’s a picture of the two of us:
A great guy, and the epitome of organization, Tom had reserved a room for lunch to give me a chance to talk with his current crop of outstanding research assistants. After lunch, he had me scheduled to serve on the examining committee for the thesis defense of one of those students, who did an excellent job. Then Tom took me on a very thorough tour of engineering facilities on the Tech campus. I have to say that he - ten years my senior - ran me a bit ragged. That evening, having dinner with Tom and his wife, Jan, in a nice restaurant, she revealed that he has taken up running in marathons. It is both that last thing I would have expected and something that makes perfect sense, knowing Tom’s tireless spirit.
Another highlight of the week was getting to see again the friends I’d made on my mid-January Caribbean cruise, Stephanie, Joe, and Lynn. We had a great dinner together, and I got to see Stephanie and Joe’s house, including the preparations they were making for the arrival of their first child, expected in late June. I’ll fast forward a bit here to mention that their baby boy, Thomas, couldn’t wait that long and was actually delivered on April 3rd, only 29 weeks into the pregnancy. He had to spend a couple months in the hospital, but he’s home now. As I write this, his full-term due date has just passed, and, according to all the tests, he is normal and healthy in every way. I don’t think Stephanie and Joe will mind if I share a couple of their pictures. Here’s one from when Thomas was two weeks old:
and another after he’d gone home with his delighted parents:
I’m looking forward to meeting Thomas in person, hopefully in the not too distant future.
Other pleasant memories of my week with Gary and Freeda include: tagging along to a ham radio club lunch meeting with great barbecue and entertaining conversation, going to their Southern Baptist church service on Sunday, attending a Milton town council meeting with them, going to a gourmet cheese shop I had noticed in the area ( a new experience for them and an expensive one for me ), meeting their charming young-adult son and daughter, Joseph and Deborah, having lunch with Gary’s thesis advisor from Tech, and lunch on a different day ( and by myself this time ) with another close friend from my years in the Ph.D. program, Jim, who went on to become a professor at Tech.
Gary, Freeda, and I also took in one tourist-y attraction together: the Southern Museum of Civil War Locomotive History ( Gary is a great train buff ) in Kennesaw, GA:
There’s the requisite statue of Robert E. Lee:
but most of the museum is dedicated to the Glover Machine Works, which cast parts and assembled locomotives during the Civil War era:
Every part cast from molten iron had to have a wooden model from which the mold was made:
There was also a lot of machining of parts:
Notice how all the tools are driven by belts from an overhead pulley system. Here is the electric motor that provided all the power:
If you look carefully, you can see the system of shafts and pulleys in this model of the factory:
There were also some depictions of locomotives being assembled:
Another important display in the museum is “The General” locomotive, which took part in “The Great Locomotive Chase” of the Civil War:
Disney even made that event into a movie:
The museum showed a film - not the Disney movie but more of a documentary - about the chase, and it was a fascinating piece of history that I hadn’t really known before.
I also thought the Merci Boxcar in another part of the museum was interesting:
The day after the tour, Gary had to leave town on a business trip, and the day after that, Freeda drove me to the metro station a second time for my trip to San Diego. The flight was uneventful, but by the time I landed, I was sick as a dog with the flu. I dragged myself out of the motel bed a couple times over the weekend for prearranged dinners with friends, but that probably wasn’t the wise thing to do, for my sake or for theirs. I was well enough by Monday for some last minute coaching of the Ph.D. student, and, for his defense on Tuesday, I was feeling myself again. This student had more family and colleagues attend his defense than I’ve ever seen - that’s a good thing - and in one of those strange “small world” experiences, I recognized one face but couldn’t come up with a name. I wracked my brain for professors in other departments that might be tangentially related to the student’s work. Then, just as he walked over to shake my hand, I realized he was a specialist M.D. that I’d seen for some health issues during my visit in San Diego last October. Turns out, he was also the father-in-law of the student! In any case, the defense went extremely well and I was glad I had attended in person.
I had a lunch meeting the next day with some engineering friends I was glad to see again, and then flew back to Atlanta on Thursday. Gary was still on his business trip, and though Freeda made no indication I’d worn out my welcome, I certainly felt it was time I moved on. My van had been parked at their place a total of 24 nights, longer than any other place I’d settled since I started traveling. Though I wasn’t there that whole time, Gary and Freeda made me feel so welcome that I felt like their place was a second home, and I owe them a huge debt of gratitude.
Still feeling it was too early in the season to push much farther north, I swung over the Outer Banks of North Caroline to see the Wright Brothers memorial and make a couple visits along the way. That’s the topic of my next post.
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