Each chapter of my junior-year high school history textbook began with an iconic two-page photograph, a way to represent whatever we were about to learn in that American studies class. My teacher, known by the initials PJK, lectured using a litany of fascinating stories, many of which he lived, instead of reading from the text. Yet, for some reason, we were still required to haul the giant textbook to class. That resulted in a near-hernia. More notably, it resulted in me keeping the opening page of each chapter on top of my desk. My ears remained open and my head faced down looking at the photo spread for each 41-minute class period. One of those chapter photographs featured the Cliff Palace ruins at Mesa Verde National Park and I told myself that one I’d explore it.

I hadn’t thought too much about Mesa Verde since high school and it wasn’t part of the original route to Los Angeles. We intended to go through Santa Fe, continue on to Flagstaff and wake up and attempt to complete the final stretch to LA in one day. From there, the original itinerary called for backtracking a bit to Las Vegas (since it wasn’t on the way originally) and spending the remaining time in Hollywood: going to Disneyland, attending a TV show taping and checking out a Dodger’s game. About a month before setting out, I typed “Mesa Verde” into Google Maps just to see if I could factor it into the route. Southwest Colorado was a little bit out of the way, but then, in a domino effect, I discovered Four Corners, Arches National Park, Monument Valley and Zion National Park. From that point forward, our Los Angeles activities (stuff we could always do in the future) were out. Camping was in. I was finally going to see Mesa Verde in person.

The web site for Mesa Verde National Park proved to be the most helpful source of trip-planning information out of all of our stops. The remaining national parks are tied for second. The NPS, along with the DOI, are a government agency and department that have their acts together. Maps, price guides, hours of operation and even a coupon for ice cream are all on one centrally-located web site. But, while a lot of the information about this park is 21st century, tickets for touring the ruins within still had to be bought in person. Even with our early wake-up time of 5:45 AM, we arrived at 1 PM. We paid the $15 per car entrance fee and rushed to drive 15 miles to the Far View visitor’s center before all of the ideal ticket times were exhausted.

I noted in my itinerary that the park speed limit was 35 MPH, but figured we could do 39 without much trouble. Instead of doing four over, however, we ended up driving four or more miles under the speed limit. The roads curved up intimidating hillsides, sometimes without guardrails, and although we arrived at the park entrance at 1 PM, we didn’t step into the visitor’s center until 1:30 PM.

If you ever plan on visiting Mesa Verde, read this…
In painstakingly planning ahead for this trip, I discovered that the iconic Cliff Palace ruins had a limited, 20-person nighttime tour dubbed “Twilight in the Palace.” It’s not mentioned on the NPS web site or heavily advertised at the visitor’s center. I came across it while reading the NPS’ not-so-Google-friendly PDF file here. This clutch brochure is also where I found the Buy 1, Get 1 Free ice cream coupon. The Twilight tour is $10 compared to the daytime fee of $3, but this rare, dusk-set access is twice as long and worth every penny. Luckily, people didn’t want to pay the extra $7 or, more likely, didn’t know about the tour since tickets were still available by the time we arrived. We also bought $3 tickets for the Balcony House and a daytime Cliff Palace tours to get a different perspective of the ruins and to recreate our memorable high school textbook photo with as much sunlight as possible.

Balcony House, known as “The Adventurous Cliff Dwelling Tour,” involves climbing a 32 ft. ladder, crawling through a 12 ft.-long tunnel and then climbing a 60 ft. open rock face with two 10 ft. ladders. This ancient obstacle course, along with the incredible mountainside views and knowledge of ceremonial Kivas, was worth $3. Also, driving to the tour gave us a chance to witness the vast destruction of wildfires.

The route to Balcony House (or nearby Cliff Palace) cuts through an eerie-looking burnt forest. “Earth-scorched” is the one term that comes to mind when you go from trees that are full of leaves and life to ones that are impossibly bare in the summer, as if this were the dead of winter.

The Spruce Tree Terrace is food court where we ate the fastest late lunch we could find in between the Balcony House and Cliff Palace tours. We literally had to eat in 7 minutes and one of those minutes was taken up to buy bottled waters. These waters would be crucial in the late summer heat, as you will soon read.

Arriving in the nick of time, we joined the tour group at Cliff Palace Overlook, where people were just finishing taking photos of the ruins from a high vantage point. This is the spot at which my high school textbook photograph must have been taken, so as soon as everyone started down the first trail, I made sure I took a minute to capture about a dozen pictures myself.

Cliff Palace descends about 100 ft. into the canyon on a steep trail and includes 120 uneven stone steps. The trail isn’t as strenuous as one at Balcony House, however, we did run into difficulty when the tour wrapped up and everyone began to ascend. A girl, in her early 20s, had passed out at the foot of one of the ladders while the ranger was giving his long speech about the ancient inhabitants in the hot sun. No one had noticed but George and I; we fortunately stuck around to take more photographs while everyone else was climbing the adjacent hill. Being closest to the top of the ladder, I had George throw me his bottled water and I raced down the ladder front first and skipped the last couple of rungs, nearly landing in the Kiva pit. I offered her water while George called over the unaware ranger. Of course, in addition to being half out of it, she was French and didn’t understand a word we were saying. It took the rest of the water bottle and 25 minutes to guide her to the top of the summit. This meant that the Twilight Palace tour was going to start soon and we didn’t have enough time to set up our campsite at Moorefield campground. We’d have to pitch the tent in the dark!

Because George and I were helping the passed-out French girl, we missed the end of the daytime Mesa Verde tour. So, I was glad that we were about to get a chance to do it all over again, this time as the sun was setting. The unique “Twilight in the Palace” tour began at 7:00, when Ranger Kevin Lloyd slipped on a pair of glasses and into the character of Mesa Verde’s first scientific superintendent Jesse Logan Nussbaum. Staying in character the entire time, he told us about the “present day” excavation of Mesa Verde all the way up to his retirement in 1946, long before the wildfires we saw driving along the Cliff Palace loop. Kevin/Jesse was full of information that we didn’t hear on the previous tour and he told it from a historical perspective. Plus, this was a twenty-person group, meaning we were given as much time as we wanted to ask him questions.

At the end of the 90-minute tour, as darkness was setting in, we were given a chance to sit on the window ledge of the tallest pueblo at Cliff Palace (you can tell which one I’m talking about by looking at any Cliff Palace photo) and then lean back to view the ancient markings on the ceiling and upper walls. This was done one at a time and could only be viewed in conjunction with a camera flash. Just don’t forget to bring a charged camera with if you’re lucky enough to attend this intimate tour. Also, this year’s “Twilight at the Palace” ran from May 24 to September 7, 2009, so plan accordingly like I did; it was worth it. Meticulous planning and research provides once-in-a-lifetime opportunities that might otherwise be missed.

As soon as the Twilight tour finished, we ran up the steep incline and into to my car. Not only did helping the passed-out French girl mean we had to set up our tent in the dark, but we also had to drive down the mountainous terrain in pitch black in order to get to the Morefield campsite. Knowing that there weren’t guardrails in some spots, we decided to take it slowly; very, very slowly. The extra bit of caution was highly appropriate because we saw wild horses jump out in front of the car. Coming from the northeast, I’m used to deer doing the same thing, but seeing a pair of large, untamed horses gallop a few feet in front of my windshield was a completely new/scary experience!

After that incident, the balance between taking our time and being in a rush to get to the general store (where we needed to pick up our campsite registration before it closed) became one-sided. We didn’t care if it was approaching 9 PM anymore. After all, we paid for a camping space over the phone by wisely reserving it through a credit card. We just needed to find out where to go. Even though we arrived shortly after 9 PM, someone was there and opened up to show us where to go on a map. It was still difficult to navigate in the darkness, even with the map. However, we found an empty camping space and set up the tent, with much aggravation.

It took three times as long to do pitch the tent tonight then when we did a test-run in my backyard before the trip. I’m not sure what made things more difficult: the darkness, having woken up at 5:45 AM or the full day of hiking when we weren’t driving and driving when we weren’t hiking. But, we have three more nights of camping, so there’s plenty of time for improvement. Now, it’s all about sleeping and focusing on the fact that I made it to Mesa Verde; I finally posses the photograph that I wanted to take eight years after seeing the original in history class.

As the sun rose, so did we… gingerly. This is the earliest we’ve woken up, but we’re determined to get to Mesa Verde on time. Because of our early exit time, we had to forgo the breakfast part of the Bob Inn Bed & Breakfast. Instead, the owner provided us with healthy cut-up fruit in the refrigerator, which we ate before hitting the road.

Before leaving Santa Fe, we ventured into the center of town to see the oldest active church in the country, the San Miguel Mission. Supposedly built in 1610, it has been destroyed and rebuilt a number of times: destroyed in 1640, rebuilt five years later in 1645; destroyed in 1680, rebuilt thirty years later in 1710. Although this petite chapel is still open today, it was closed at the early hour we arrived. On top of that, clouds set in and it started drizzling, so we spent only a couple of minutes observing before making our way to the Colorado state border.

About an hour before seeing the Colorado sign, we spotted what seemed to be a wolf and other figures etched into large cliffs along US Route 84. Whether these carvings were man made or are naturally occurring and just a coincidence, we got out of the car, stretched our legs and took some panoramic photographs.
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New Mexico’s sign includes green and red chiles, a staple of this self-proclaimed “Land of Enchantment” state. We tried them first hand when we arrived in Santa Fe and ate dinner at the award-winning burger restaurant, Bobcat Bite. George saw it on an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives on the Food Network and it’s the sole reason we went to Santa Fe instead of Albuquerque.

Bobcat Bite is also the one and only reason we stayed at the Bobcat Inn next door. This pueblo-styled bed and breakfast was inexpensive for a B&B and conveniently located within walking distance, so after checking in at 6:30 PM, we hurried on over to sit down at Bobcat Bite, which closes at 7:50 PM. The odd closing time is due to an old 8:00 PM curfew that has since expired.

Although I’m usually a plain ketchup-and-mustard burger guy, I ordered the green chile cheeseburger with fried onions on top. George said that it was the best burger he’s ever tasted. Mine started to fall apart halfway through, but I still enjoyed the unique flavor of this Santa Fe-exclusive burger.

Rain crept in with the sunset as we finished our meal, so we hurried back to the B&B and scanned our rooms we’re staying in since they’re filled with unique ornaments. In addition to decorations like a stuffed bobcat and the skull of a longhorn steer, the Bobcat Inn includes free wireless Internet access, ideal for this quick update before turning in early. We have to wake up at the crack of dawn to drive to Mesa Verde, Colorado, where we camp for the first time on this roadtrip.

We left Texas for New Mexico at 3:00 PM and yet I’m at the New Mexican border, an hour’s drive away, typing this up at 3:00 PM! How’d I do it? Magic? Teleportation? Nah, we just entered the Mountain Time Zone.

This morning in Amarillo, we drove to Palo Duro Canyon, the second-largest canyon in the United States, to go horseback riding. At first, we were in a rush to get to our 10:00 AM appointment at the Old West Stables located within the park. However, upon arriving at the park entrance, the ranger told us that our appointment would have to be rescheduled because it rained and flooded last night. This allowed us to take our time the rest of the way through and it’s a good thing. The winding road through the canyon snaked all the way down to Old West Stables and a lot of turns provided no guardrails. The 35 mph speed limit signs were no joke.

It was as beautiful as it was scary. Multicolored layers of exposed canyon walls gave the mesa and hoodoo rock formations red, light brown and white stripes, and it extended for miles. The steep descent eventually led to Old West Stables where we learned they would indeed take us horseback riding without having to reschedule. I’m glad that we didn’t take the park ranger’s word and try to gas up or eat lunch before checking it out for ourselves.

Old West Stables gave us a fantastic deal when we pre-booked the horseback riding appointment over the phone. It was just $35 each for an hour-long guided tour of a canyon trail. I was surprised that they still took us this morning, not because of the rain the night before—this place is very dry, so there were few streams remaining—but because only two other people showed up. It was nice for us because the four of us had a small intimate tour of the canyon with two helpful guides on horseback. But at these prices, I don’t know how they do it.

The streams actually made the experience more fun while riding my horse, Sooner, named after the eager settlers of Oklahoma who claimed land before it was legally open for settlement. She too was quick to gain ground, especially when it came to crossing the very shallow, not-even-ankle-deep streams.

All of the runoff water was located in miniature valleys, so my horse would charge down a tiny hill, splash through the streams as quickly as possible and immediately climb up a symmetrical hill on the other side. The vertical terrain taught me some unanticipated balancing techniques that I learned on the fly while riding the horse and it made for a bumpy, but exhilarating ride. For the not-so-steep price of $35, this steep descent into the country’s second largest canyon proved to a better experience than the flat, docile horse trail that I traveled a couple of years ago in Aruba.

As soon as the hour was up, I dismounted Sooner, thanked our first-rate guides and we drove to the top of the outlook point to take an incredible panoramic photo of the canyon on the way out. From Palo Duro, we filled up on crucially-needed gas and ate lunch at a Sonic Drive-In, another fast-food restaurant I’ve never been to before this roadtrip. Instead of eating in the car, we ate outside because it was so hot and the car is packed with luggage and my belongings.

Now in New Mexico, we stopped at the visitor’s center to photograph the nearby state sign and spotted a man riding from the center into Texas… on a horse. We had to take a picture of that, too. It’s not everyday you see someone crossing state lines on horseback. We have to go the other way, on a horseless wagon, into New Mexico to tonight’s destination: Santa Fe.

Last seating at The Big Texan Steak Ranch was 10:00 PM and we just made it to the famous Amarillo eatery. It’s known for having the 72 oz. challenge. Anyone who can eat the steak (plus sides) in an hour eats for free. Otherwise, it’s $72. We just went for a pair of 20 oz. T-bones and had a difficult time finishing them. We did see a small girl sit at the challenge table, but it seemed like her parents only wanted a photo-op and she had no intention of racing the rather large clock on the wall.

The T-bone was average at best and I noticed that almost souvenir and desirable photo op said “Home of the 72 oz. Steak Challenge” and immediately mentioned the restaurant’s web site. The marketing was better than the food. I can’t say whether or not the fried rattlesnake was any good, though. In a failed effort to try something completely different, I tried to order it, but they were out by the time we arrived. I did manage to get a glass boot and shot glass from the attached souvenir shop. I’ve seen people drink out of a large glass boot before, but doubt they bought it in Texas.

The neighboring Big Texan Motel looked like a bunch of stables and saloons on the outside and was filled with a similar ranch-style theme on the inside. Very Disneyesque. It was smaller than all of our previous hotels, but was the cheapest of the bunch, too. All of the walls and furniture were made of wood, the bedspreads had appropriate cow prints on them and the shower curtain a big Texas state flag. Even cooler, they had a hat rack for two cowboy hats. This was ideal because I just happened to bring a pair of cowboy hats for tomorrow’s horseback riding trip through Palo Duro Cayon. Let’s hope the rain clears up before then.

Update: Here’s a Panoramic photo of the Texas morning sky:

Wednesday has been a long day and there’s still six hours to go and four of them involve driving from Oklahoma City to Amarillo, Texas. The morning began with an hour-and-a-half tour of the William J. Clinton Presidential Library, conveniently next to the Little Rock, Arkansas hotel that I booked. In fact, our Comfort Inn was so close that it was renovated and renamed the “Comfort Inn & Suits Downtown at the Clinton Library” for the library’s 2004 dedication. It’s also the only non-business-related hotel that I’ve stayed in that had an HDTV in the room.

The first room of the Clinton Library had the White House cabinet table and chairs and, to my surprise, I was allowed to sit in the President’s chair. Little Known Fact: It’s actually two-inches taller than all of the other chairs in the cabinet room. Upon prying myself out of the seat of power, I followed the subsequent timeline exhibit where I came across a photo of President Clinton signing NAFTA, something Hillary Clinton campaigned against in 2008. Oops.

Clinton memorabilia highlights included two old Macs from the late 90s dotcom era, the President’s saxophone collection, his sax-wielding Muppet and a yellow shirt, helmet and bike from Lance Armstrong. Toward the end of the tour, there was a room dedicated to all of the space exploration that went on during his two terms and a replica of the Oval Office, which was roped off. I got in on a high-five picture of James Carville and Paul Begala and pulled out my iPhone to compare it to the old 90s clunkers used by a bearded Begala and others (both pictures below).

Finally, we took pictures in front of the Presidential Limousine and then hoped in my just-as-fancy 1997 Toyota Corolla.

Five hours after leaving the Clinton Library, we arrived in Oklahoma City and made our way to the Oklahoma City National Memorial. Now the largest memorial of its kind in the United States, it was where Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building stood until Timothy McVeigh, with the aid of Terry Nichols, destroyed it on April 19, 1995. I remember having just turned 11 six days before this occurred and watching the news coverage with shock and bewilderment.

Now 25 years old, I made sure that I took out a half hour to check out the memorial. Walking through the entrance, the first thing I noticed was the enormous eastern gate with 9:01 engraved at the top of the frame. This represents the last moments of peace, as the bombing occurred at 9:02 AM. Across the reflecting pool is the western gate with 9:03 at the top. That time represents the first moments of recovery. Continuing with the symbolism, a thin-and-clean-looking reflecting pool (unlike the one in D.C.) between the two gates is supposed to show a face changed by domestic terrorism, while the 168 empty chairs in the adjacent field symbolize those who lost their lives in the attack.

From downtown Oklahoma, we headed to The Wedge Pizzeria. While I was making the itinerary, I tried to vary up the restaurants and noticed we didn’t have one pizza place on the schedule. Lots of steak, sandwich and ribs restaurants. So, I used Yelp! to search for a quality pizza parlor in Oklahoma City and found The Wedge at 4709 N Western Ave, Oklahoma City, OK 73118.

Pizzas at The Wedge aren’t your ordinary Domino’s or Pizza Hut pies. They’re large slices with sizeable, whole ingredients like an authentic Italian pie. It’s a switch from the delivery and homemade pizza that I’m used to and took care of my hunger from the long drive. More than anything, I’m glad that we fit a pizzeria into this trip and a got a chance to stop in Oklahoma City, the geographical halfway point on our 14-day journey.

Memphis was almost in the history books. We cruised the mighty Mississippi as they did in the days of Mark Twain in what looked like a turn-of-the-century riverboat. We toured music landmarks Sun Studio and Graceland. We walked to the National Civil Rights Museum where MLK, Jr. was assassinated and walked down the electric avenue of Beale Street. The only thing left to conquer in Memphis was the city’s best ribs at a little place called Rendezvous.

Rendezvous isn’t located on Beale Street and it isn’t lit up in neon like most of the downtown restaurants. It’s down a shady-looking alley with no other businesses in the vicinity. But, for what it lacks in décor on the outside, it makes up with delicious food on the inside. Bill Clinton and George W. Bush seem to agree, as both former presidents have been customers in the past. Even President Obama has tried the ribs via FedEx and loved them so much that he wrote a letter of thanks to the owner. Rendezvous doesn’t require you to be the PotUS to receive these ribs through the mail. They actually ship them overnight through their web site. That’s how good they are.

To give you some background, I’m not a big eater. Nine times out of ten, I’m taking home to-go boxes from restaurants. I also don’t like beans and I’m not a big fan of coleslaw. At Rendezvous, however, I ordered a full rack of ribs and the seasoning on them was so mouth-wateringly perfect that I split a second full rack with George. Again, I usually want less food, not more.

It was astonishing for me to have a full rack and a half of these dry-rub ribs, and the mild and hot sauce only brought out the exceptional baked-in seasoning out more. Then, I tried the barbeque-baked beans. They were so warm and flavorsome that I didn’t realize that I was eating something I usually hate. The same goes for the mustard-based coleslaw, which had a yellow-orange color and unique zing to them.

Kevin and Kenny, my new roommates in L.A., talked about this place more than a normal person should. Now I know why. Too bad this place 1,800 miles away from where I’m going to be living and their ribs start at $99 for overnighting two slabs. Good thing we put off going to Little Rock for a couple of hours. We’re going to the Clinton Library tomorrow morning, anyway.

The plan was to go to Graceland this morning, cross the border to Arkansas by noon and have two solid hours at the Bill Clinton Presidential Library. That’s not going to happen. Not today, at least. We walked to our hotel from Sun Studio yesterday and asked the front desk:

Me: “Do we need reservations for dinner at Rendezvous tonight?”

Front Desk: “Normally you would…”

[At this point, I thought the clerk might say, “But since you’re staying at the hotel right next to the restaurant, it won’t be a problem,” or something of that nature.]

Front Desk: “…But it’s closed on Mondays.”

The entire reason that we took the slightly-longer southern route to Los Angeles was because my new roommates raved about Rendezvous’ ribs on their way out to L.A. in February. Six months later, we were finally at the door of this much-talked-about restaurant and discovered that it wouldn’t open until 4:30 PM Tuesday when we had originally planned to be out of the city by noon. Sorry, Bill Clinton, but we have to reschedule today because we didn’t have ribs last night.

Well, we did have ribs last night, but it was at the Blues City Café and it didn’t live up to the hype of “Memphis ribs.” Afterwards, we walked around the neon-lit shops of Beale Street, bought Blue Moons from one of the many beer patios that line this pedestrian-only street and listened to live music at a blues club. The bright lights and loud music couldn’t cure our own ribs blues. So, we decided to push back going to the Clinton Library until tomorrow, Wednesday morning, and spend almost all of Tuesday in Memphis before checking into our Little Rock hotel as late as possible.

Tuesday morning was entirely about Elvis. We pre-booked Graceland’s 9:15 AM tour for the AAA discounted price of $29.70 (normally $33). This oddly priced Platinum Tour ticket, at just $4 more than the Mansion-only Tour, included five extra exhibits.

We started off with the conventional audio-guided tour of the mansion, which looks untouched with dated shag carpets and 60s TVs that are far from high-definition. From the pool table in the basement to the swimming pool outside, everything is in pristine condition and explains why they don’t allow flash photography. There’s so much cultural history here that even if you don’t like Elvis’ music or despise celebrity, the fact that so much memorabilia of just one person is amassed in a single location is still an admirable accomplishment. I just don’t know what we passed more: gold records or gold suits.

The Platinum Tour ticket allowed us to walk through Elvis’ two custom airplanes, check out his extensive automobile collection, get a glimpse of his parallel career in 31 movies, learn about his brief military service and see all of the fan memorabilia, from the cool to the cheesy. For an extra $4, all of these extras were worth it and amounted to two hours of additional insight into the life of The King.

During the course of the tour, I learned that meatloaf was Elvis’ favorite meal. With meatloaf on the brain, that’s exactly what I ordered for lunch from the Chrome Grill. This on-sight café put it on a bun for me to make a sandwich, and with veggies and mashed potatoes, it was a delicious combination. The only thing that could be better is tonight’s planned dinner at Rendezvous.

Before Rendezvous opens, we have several hours to burn in downtown Memphis. The original plan called for visiting the National Civil Rights Museum, located at the Lorraine Motel where Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. The actual museum is closed on Tuesdays, but we still walked a good 25 minutes each way to observe the historical outside of the motel.

During yesterday’s riverboat ride, we spotted a man kayaking the Mississippi River. With more than two hours to before heading to Rendezvous, we decided to travel to Mud Island, which is really a peninsula that juts out into the Mississippi. While we had hoped to kayak the river too, having kayaked before in Pennsylvania, the rental office was closed because there was a storm advisory. Even though the skies have been clear since we arrived in Memphis, the advisory has been in effect for the past two days; apparently that kayaking man from yesterday used his own. Not deterred, we still managed to navigate America’s longest river… on two kiddy paddleboats. One shaped like a white swan and the other a green dragon.

We were the only two people on the shallow river inlet, and after twenty minutes of peddling the boats furiously and attempting to steer them in the correct direction, I realized why that was. The intense Memphis sun was beating down on us so hard that our sunscreen began to run into our eyes along with the immense sweat. It cost us $2 to ride these kiddy boats and we probably spent more on bottled waters in the adjacent shop after we abandoned ship. In the end, I think a weather advisory was warranted, but for the powerful heat, rather than the absent storms.

On the way to Memphis, we intended to eat lunch at Noshville, a normal deli in Nashville with a funny name. However, we found out that the Memphis Riverboat ride that we wanted to take at 5:00 PM was only available Saturdays and Sundays and that the weekday time was limited to 2:30 PM. We weren’t going to even bother trying to get to Memphis by 2:30 PM and even drove through Nashville to stop for lunch. At the last second, we decided to skip lunch in an effort to maybe, hopefully, possibly make it to the boat before it pulled out onto the Mississippi.

Time was going to be tight, even though we gained an hour upon entering the Central Time Zone on the way to Nashville. It was almost 11 AM Central when we got to Nashville and lying between us at the 2:30 PM boat was a 3-hour drive to Memphis, checking into the hotel, unpacking our luggage from the car (we weren’t sure is this was necessary, but then the hotel gave us a not-so-reassuring pamphlet that said “Stow it. Don’t show it.”) and, finally, running in the hot Memphis sun to the riverboat, which, with a little luck, wouldn’t be pulling away when we arrived.

We made to the dock with just six minutes to spare at 2:24 PM. Out of breath and hungry, we boarded the ship, stood in front of a giant oscillating fan and ordered some hotdogs and a cold drink. The 90-minute cruise aboard an old-time riverboat was worth it for the scenery, the breeze and the monotone narrator who had the soothing voice of a tired southern storyteller. Although I could’ve sworn it was a recording and told George that it must be when said that he thought the same thing, we discovered that it was really a man on the second deck of this three-deck boat. Toward the end of the ride, he humorously remarked, “Some people think I’m a CD, but nope. I’m a real person.”
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The Blue Ridge Mountains run along I-81 through the western part of Virginia. Seeing them in the distance is breathtaking, but it’s really difficult to capture a mountain range in a single photograph. It’s something that’s better suited for video, which I’ll have to post once we arrive in Los Angeles in two weeks.

Conveniently placed between Washington, D.C. and Knoxville is the small town of Lexington, Virginia. Here, Washington & Lee University is located along with the graves of Civil War generals Stonewall Jackson and Robert E. Lee, both Confederates. Jackson owned a single home in his lifetime while he taught at the local Virginia Military Institute and it’s now a museum. Lee became the president of Washington College (later renamed Washington & Lee University) following his defeat in the Civil War and remained in that position until his death. He’s buried at the adjacent Lee Chapel, which contains a museum in the basement.

Since we arrived at 5 PM on a Sunday, the Lee Chapel & Museum was just closing. However, we were able to photograph the outsides of the small chapel and campus and stopped by Stonewall Jackson’s grave site. Before leaving this quaint little town, we grabbed a snack from the local Wendy’s and continued to drive to Knoxville.
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