||Dawn was hazy in the eastern sky. Tall pine trees stood at attention
along the highway, while white daisys, black-eyed Susans and yellow buttons
of oryoptis flowers decorated the shoulders. We crossed the Tennessee River
just after 8 AM, just one of several rivers we crossed that morning. Just
over the Big Sandy River, a highway patrolman's car sat hidden on the median,
the only officer I saw all weekend that wasn't writing a ticket or working
an accident. I sighed as we passed the turnoff for the Shilo Battlefield,
which would've been nice to visit, but we didn't have time to stop. (Besides,
the guys would've complained about visiting "one more battlefield.") About
Mile Marker 42, a turkey buzzard flew across the highway, barely missing
our windshield by a matter of feet. By 10 AM, we made it to Memphis.
I needed a pit stop, and was surprised to see a sign for "Frayser,"
which turnes out to be a section of Memphis. I pulled over, but couldn't
find anyplace suitable, so we got back on the Interstate.