The Last Leg (Regular Style or Spicy?)

     The remainder of the trip was less eventful, up until we arrived in South Carolina. We drove a sliver of Iowa (approximately 50 miles of it), and the farmlands-turned-wetlands were telling of the heavy storms that had deluged the state only a week earlier.
     Missouri came up quick. The frontier was behind us. From now on, there'd be a lot more states per day.
     It wasn't more than a few hours since Iowa that we reached the outskirts of Kansas City. We had decided that it was worth a bit of a detour to include the state of Kansas into our trek's state roster. While Miriam had been when she was much younger (Miriam's family had almost relocated to Wichita, KS. Why in the name of God, you may ask? Her father is an aeronautic engineer -- a big industrial among the tall fields of the Sunflower State.), neither Bobby or had been. So instead of following the I-29 straight into the city and onto the I-70 (yes, back to our old friend from Utah and Colorado), we took the auxiliary route I-435, around the two Kasnas Cities, through a bit of Kansas, and then back into Missouri to meet the I-70 to the east of Kansas City, MO. So...I've been to Kansas. Nothing much more to report on that.
     It was just a couple more hours to the other side of Missouri and St. Louis. On the way we passed through our destination: one of the many other Columbia's that dot the American landscape (Alabama, California, Ilinois, Iowa, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maryland, Mississippi, North Carolina, Pennsylvania,South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Virginia). This route brought us through the very northern tip of the Ozarks. I had the stereo on and the windows up, so if there was a faint sound banjo music in the air, I was not aware.
     We approached St. Louis, stopping short of entering the city proper. Instead, we exited at Earth City. Why is it called that? You got me there. Wikipedia offers no explanation. Neither does a cursory glance through a Google search. But I can tell you that it's not an actual city -- that is, it's unicorporated -- and it seems to be mostly office, warehouse and industrial space. But, there's also a Holiday Inn and a Jack in the Box (something we would sorry miss come our arrival in Columbia, SC -- 2 tacos for $1...economical when a half-mile away, not when it's 70 miles away in Rock Hill).
     At the Holiday Inn, it was time for laundry. Bobby sat with his laptop in the laundary room, as we pumped quarters into a drier which didn't dry our clothes even after two cycles. We actually made use of the hotel-provided hangars that night...as well as the backs of the chairs...and the armrests.
     That night, we also partaked in our first Steak 'n Shake meal. Brian, our previous roommate (Linda Vista apartment) and the designer of our wedding CD sleeve (visit his website: Drunken Cat Comics), had worked for a while at a Steak 'n Shake in Columbus, OH. Miriam called him before we went to get his recommendations. We all pretty much got the same thing -- burger, cheese fries and a shake. Wasn't that bad. I was disappointed by the fries. They reminded me of cafeteria fries...the kind that make you wish they had tatter tots that day. And the cheese seemed to just be an American single slice. The shake was good, though. And while we were in there, a huge deluge passed by, but it was only slightly sprinkling when we left.
     The next day was our last full-day on the road. We drove through St. Louis, past the Archway, over the Mississppi River and into Illinois. (Of course, I'm listening to Sufjan Steven's "Illinois" as I write this.) This was my first time in the state, if you don't count being at O'Hare for a stop-over back in May...which I did count up until this point.
     We made our way towards the southern tip of Illinois, and crossed into Kenucky, crossing the wide Ohio River. This part of Kentucky seemed much like southern Illinois -- farmland interspersed with forests. We also caught quick glimpses of Kentucky Lake. Created in 1944 by the Tennessee Valley Authority (the TVA, for the acronymically-inclined), and the largest articifical lake east of the Mississippi (not sure if that's something to be proud of or not).
     The farmlands seemed to dwindle as we moved on into Tennessee. We stopped in Nashville at the Opry Mills, a shopping/entertainment center that had sprung up around the famed Grand Ole Opry. There was a Johnny Rockets (a favorite of Miriam and I) within the mall there. We enjoyed our #12's (cheeseburger with Tillamook cheddar) and cherry and vanilla Cokes and watched as shoppers walked by. There seemed to be a lot more diversity (read: not just white people) than we'd seen through out the Midwest. Bobby was totally digging on the place, and we'd really only been to this one mall. He ended up staying behind to get some pictures of the Grand Ole Opry and surrounding environs (and ended up seeing a highway-side fire that must have started just after Miriam and I passed.
     We made our way through Tennessee's woody hills and mountains, past Oak Ridge (yes, Manhattan Project fans, the Oak Ridge, TN), and on into Knoxville, where we would be staying the night.
     In the hotel parking lot, I heard a strange, somewhat electrical sound, that I figured was coming from the AT&T building across the street. I would later hear the same noise in Columbia, and would eventually come to find out that it is the call of cicada -- though this particular cicada "song" (in the loosest sense of the word) was only heard certain years (I still haven't found out how many years usually pass for this "song" to crop up again, but it seems like there are some that come and go every seven years). It's a truly annoying sound, whose Californian absence I wholly miss.
     In the room, we found a station playing the original (i.e., from Japan) "The Grudge 2." It was just kind of ridiculous. Though I haven't seen either of the American versions, or the first Japanese "Grudge," I sort of had higher expectations for this Japanese version, even it is a sequel. Guess they generally suck over there, too.
     Even though it wasn't necessarily scary, the movie was creepy enough for us not to continue watching, especially as it was getting dark and we were staying in a strange place. So we decided to go see "Get Smart" at the mall that was about two block away.
     We found the mall all right, but finding the theater was another thing. We drove to the far side of the mall, were there was a big sign for the theater, but there was only a general mall entrance, and it was locked as the time was nearly 10 pm. So we decided to drive around and see if we could find the actual theater entrance. On the other side of the mall, there was another brightly-lit sign for the theater, and a parking structure. Once within the parking structure, though, it was a bit convulted as to where the theater entrance was. We finally came to a floor with much more cars than the rest, and this turned out to be the right floor. As we entered the theater, there was a mock-streetscape, with pastel-colored façades. It was très weird. (That was my first time using html to add accents on letters! Did it work? Yay!) And to top it off, there were very few people around, and most of them were theater employees.
     Movie theater popcorn served as our dinner as we watched the movie. It was pretty good. I would rent on DVD, but probably not buy.
     The next day was our last on-the-road day. And it was the shortest, too -- only about four hours, from Knoxville to our final destination, Columbia. But it was probably one of the most beautiful four hours we'd spent on the road. It was woody hills and mountains all the way, and, although we didn't drive into the boundaries of the national park, we passed within veiwing distance of the Great Smoky Mountains.
     We came down slowly, through the eastern leg of North Carolina, past Asheville, where we bid farewell to an old Californian friend, the I-40 (which we had seen start in Barstow), and down into our new home's state, South Carolina (yes, notice the distinction between "home's state" and "home state"). We passed through Spartanburg, past closest Costco to Columbia (about 91 miles away...sigh), and the mileage signs kept ticking up towards our exit, #106, St. Andrews Road.