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We had not been out of Tampa area for very long until the sun came up and burned off the fog.  I pretty much handled the driving when not going through the big cities. Trying not to get bogged down by the emotional ramifications of what I had done,  today we look at the various sights from the interstate.       

 
 
Yes, that is me parked along the shoulder.  Yes, that is a car behind me.  Yes, it is an official car.  No, I only got a warning. 
 
I was traveling along, probably a little too fast, and oddly enough the current Mrs. Blythe and I had had a brief conversation regarding having to pull the truck over for those weigh check stations and/or Ag stop that you see in Florida close to the border. We decided that a small rental truck probably wasn't required to stop, so on I went.  A short way after the Ag stop a car came up to my left side waving me over to the side of the interstate.  I looked over at the current Mrs. Blythe and said, "My God, I've been pulled over for speeding." 
 
Turned out it was an Agricultural Officer pulling me over because, yes, all trucks are required to stop and get checked for contraband plants. He told us that he was only going to give us a warning but if I failed to stop at another Ag check it would be on my record for other Ag officers to see. 
 
He asked to see what was in the back and apparently wasn't interested in my illegal motorcycle.  When we got on our way and he passed us, we noticed he didn't even have lights and probably no siren, thus the hand gesturing.     
 
The guy was nice enough and probably helped me slow down some, but still it was a little shattering.   
 




 
At one of our gas stops we noticed this fine soon-to-be-restored 1961 Chris Craft wood-sided boat.   
 
 


The Mountains are pretty and all that but add an element of hairiness to the trip.
 

 
The third and final hurdle after Atlanta and Chattanooga.
 
 
 
Like I said I occasionally had a led foot and sometimes, in the mountains I needed a little extra juice.  Several times I'd punch it but the engine would wallow.  I was starting to think it was defective until I saw this and realized I'd been muzzled.
 

 
It's not clear but this sign says Chicago 216 miles.  It represents the final leg.  Now comes the hard work and the hard thinking.  Now comes the temporary "goodbyes" and the long-awaited "hellos".  A new chapter has arrived - will it be everything you'd hoped?  Will it be the solution or another obstacle?  Sometimes I wish I could have those blinders one puts on horses so they can't be distracted.  My problem is the blindfold I wear that we all have when we come to those forks in the road.  Like Yogi said,  "When you come to a fork in the road, take it."  I have.         

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