Nashville

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So, in Douthat State Park, VA, I was told to sleep in the unoccupied group site. As such I was questioned by the park rangers who asked me to stop by their cabin on my way out. As I had no money at the time, I instead opted to sleep on a picnic table with few leisure accompaniments and instead just jet out of that place at dawn without paying. My moral thinking on this issue is as such... I pay taxes (still!) and I didn't use any of their facilities. Therefore, my plan of leaving without paying poses a dilemma for those working there. By leaving early they barely notice my presence and also aren't presented with a dilemma of their own... ie whether or not to charge me for my dusk-dawn camping situation. The truth is I'm likely the only actual "camper" of the whole summer. I don't feel too bad, only a bit bad about that they know I'm from IL so they might think ill of the North from my actions.
Luckily I was out of VA pretty soon (Ie first thing in the morning), only after checking out my Dad's alma mater... VA Tech. What a nice pretty limestone campus! Their sports complex was probably twice the size of U of I's stadium. I called my dad from the duck pond. He had all kinds of nice things to say about the place he had called home for over 4 years. I'm not sure I could say the same about U of I. But I ended up in Nashville. Good place to be if you have a friend with his gracious parents' air conditioned house during a heat wave. Wow it was hot. Delicious popsicles from "Las Paletas" only barely helped... though Cucumber with hot peppers was a hell of a flavor, not to mention reminiscent of Guadalajara with all the salt and lime. Yum.
Later that night we accompanied my friend's friends to a karaoke bar (my favorite!) called Lonnie's, located in Printer's Alley. I waited a bit, but then sang "The Gambler" - Kenny Rogers but in the wrong key, or maybe just an octave too high. Right at the end the hostess changed something so I could hear Kenny and I felt like such and idiot but then dropped down... It was quite embarrassing because I already felt out-of-my-element, in this country bar... a Yankee. Anyway, I waited, drank some more beer, and signed up for a song I completely identify with at this point of my life... Bob Seger's "Turn the Page". Eventually it was my turn and I got up there and totally nailed it. Didn't miss a note or a beat, it was beautiful. I even had a cigarette to use as a prop and fill in those brief instrumental breaks. Sadly I had my camera in my pocket or Adam could've taken some pics. But the important thing is I saved face by hitting that song right. I even put my name down as "Parker the Motorcycle Traveler". Awesome.
No one will remember a thing. The next day I left Nashville just before noon in the midst of astonishing heat and humidity, rode the interstate to Carbondale where I stopped for gas and called my brother to see if he was in town for whatever reason. He wasn't... but told me a good cut-through route to save some time and after getting gas and Arizona tea I hit the road, turned off at Spillway Blvd and went for a swim in Crab Orchard Lake. confronted my fear of things attached to the ground in murky water by punching a buoy and also got my first decent aerobic exercise of the trip (sad I know). So refreshing though. When I emerged I was soon noticed and watched by a guy in his 60's smoking a cig. It was a little creepy, but I guess eye candy (me) is a beautiful thing as long as it stops there. Got dressed and back on Gretchen for the ride on the St Louis. Eventually arrived at my friend Katie's, on the campus of my middle school boarding school home. We almost immediately went to Stir Crazy to get food. I was famished and destroyed that food. Yum. Later I took Katie for a moto ride, ate some tasty dessert at a chocolate bar in Lafayette Square, then rode around St. Louis letting Katie be cameragirl and then headed back to a house she was housesitting. What a freaking nice place! There was nothing inside that looked like a compromise. Plus it was way too big for the apparently two people who generally live there when they aren't gone all summer on vacation. Incredible.
The next day I did my laundry, looked at some maps, called some friends, and left StL without seeing Geoff (SORRY!) and booked it up to Maroa, where my old friend Jenna provided me with a delicious BBQ dinner. Yum. It's so good to see old friends. After another 2 hours of bug-ridden riding East on I-72, I reached Champaign-Urbana. Took my old route through campustown and was glad to see the old abandoned Wendy's and the unbelievably slow BK were both razed and turning into something useful.

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