Sweet Home Alabama
Pre-dawn awaking to an Arctic blast on this blurry eyed departure morn. How cold is it? So very frigid Paul wielded his equally frigid crowbar to coerce the RV jacks to release. First hurdle cleared full steam ahead Captain. A solid glazed sheet creates a personal ice rink in our Court, Old Red groans as the camper shoves us down the driveway across the frozen arena swerving boldly out of our sleepy berg. A jealous neighbor waves a teary goodbye reminded of the warm breezy sunshine she will not experience, hmm maybe that wasn't exactly a wave. Streaks of blue hover atop frosted alabaster beams spanning the Mighty Mississippi, adios frozen muchachos. Snow, ice, sleet, rain pounds most of the country except for our uncharacteristically hazard-free route, outrunning almost a foot of snow in St. Louis, rain misting the roads into Memphis, funky soul blues warming old crabby bones, arriving at dazzling pristine beaches bordering the Gulf of Mexico. Not parti...