Yesterday Earl and I drove six hundred miles north from Knoxville to arrive home as the sun was setting somewhere. We had returned to the Land of Eternal Winter Grayness, so a sunset was no longer part of our daily enjoyment. No matter. We were glad to cruise into town between predicted snowy blasts.
When we left three weeks ago we watched the outdoor temperature climb from a chilly eighteen degrees. As we drove further south, we shed various layers of clothing. Now, we reversed the trend, although Earl refused to don his winter jacket to the bitter end.
On the way south, we examined rest areas and mile markers. On the way north, we watched those signs that tell you what chain restaurants are available at a certain exit. (We are easily amused.)
As one drives south, Starbuck’s becomes less available. Since I have a line of credit on a Starbuck’s card, I noticed this early on. The coffee giant seems to be more of a northern phenomenon to the point where there is no Starbuck’s between Key Largo and Key West, Florida. That’s approximately a one hundred mile stretch.
However, there are two franchises that crop up more frequently. Perhaps they’re more “southern”: Chick-fill-A and Waffle House. On this trip, we sampled the former but not the latter. And we found them from the road signs on the interstate highways. (We found Starbuck’s that way too.)
Yesterday, driving north near Hamilton, Kentucky, we saw a road sign that promoted all three chains. We had to stop. Earl called it the “Trifecta,” but I prefer to think it is a new demarcation of the Mason-Dixon Line. According to Wikipedia, this is the “cultural boundary between the northeastern United States and the Southern United States.” Granted, we weren’t in the northeastern U. S., but otherwise I think the definition fits.
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