As the miles tick by

Well, after my nostalgic overdose on memories of I-55, my trip through the Southeast on I-85 and I-65 was rather disappointing. I'm sure the hills and plentiful trees (and soon kudzu) hide many interesting roadside quirks, but I simply didn't see as much as in the Midwest. When we drive Southern backroads, it's a feast for the eyes, but the interstates are dull -- other than dodging speeding traffic around Atlanta.

There were a few images that captured my imagination, though.

One that I must return to is the Dwarf House in Newnan, Ga. It's a perfectly normal Chick-fil-A with a small tudor house stuck on the front. We didn't notice this anomaly until we'd already promise Abigail some time at the Burger King playground (yes, my sheltered child has now had french fries -- something like five times over the whole trip). But I became obsessed with the neighboring eatery. Was it a miniature house for children to play in? Was it simply a playground with a fancy facade? Were gnome statues involved? I now know where we'll be stopping the next time we head to Mom's. And it most definitely won't be the Burger King, where termites promptely swarmed the moment Abigail crawled into the playground.

Another perplexing sight came toward the end of our epic 10 hour journey (during which Abigail was supernaturally calm, playing quitely with toys in the back seat -- the entire time). In Dixonville, Fla., which doesn't even qualify as a hamlet or crossroads, there was a fire hydrant on the side of Fla. 89, surrounded by pine trees and nothing else for miles other than a small water tower. And this hydrant was gushing at full blast. There were no people in sight, no explanation for why this hydrant would have been uncapped. Not even signs of a car running off the road to hit it. How long did this hydrant keep spewing water? How many thousands of gallons were wasted? How many other people passed by and were as bemused as I was?

And somewhere in north Georgia, a beautifully brutal image: A huge hardwood tree uprooted in the middle of a rolling green field, clumps of bright orange clay clinging to its massive roots, below it a jagged hole. A bloody gash in the earth.