It took 23-days of driving over 4,000 miles, but we’re finally home. 10 different Marriott properties, thirteen different beds, beaches on the Gulf and Atlantic, The Great Lakes, and four Cracker Barrels took us full circle. I’ve summed it all up in a poem:
Four thousand miles,
Twenty-three days.
What could’ve gone wrong?
Let me count the ways!
Mother Marriott sheltered us,
Most of the way.
But there were three nights,
Where we had to pay.
Panama City first stop,
Selma Bridge walk.
Tuscaloosa BBQ,
“Roll Tide” talk.
Bannisters for dinner,
In Huntsville for Lunch.
You didn’t complain adding,
A Cracker Barrel brunch.
It was one of four,
At your favorite travel stop.
You liked the dancing broom,
In the Georgia gift shop.
The Creeper struck,
And made you itch.
Highway construction,
Was our only bitch.
Adam’s Traverse,
Kept us going.
But your rash,
Kept on growing.
Clothes to consign, Vegetable Art. Food and Drink, Cross-Country to cart.
The Hall of Fame tour,
Started in Nashville.
Grand Ole’ Opry,
A special thrill.
“Safe” travels,
Took a little twist.
We left for Bowling Green,
Your jewels suddenly missed.
Peter to the rescue,
His daughter’s home nearby.
We had stopped by,
Just to say “hi.”
Indy time with Debsie,
Another Banister lunch.
The highlight at The Mousetrap,
Reuniting our media bunch.
Morse Reservoir boating,
Eddy’s tenderloin.
Detour to Decatur,
More friends to join.
Night in Muskegon,
But Covid hits Ludington.
Drive-by wave,
After another short run.
Pizza in Petoskey,
Mackinac Bridge.
Crossing by ferry,
Where’s my fridge?
Grand Hotel porch,
True elegance.
Five-course dinner,
Despite no pants.
Ester Williams pool,
Sweeping Lake views.
Cupola for drinks,
A “deal” we couldn’t refuse.
More Fame in Cleveland,
Canton not as much Glory
Biltmore for more magnets,
And your fav -The Conservatory.
Hilton Head for some rest,
But the Concierge was rude.
He tried to spoil,
Our vacation mood.
The SERG card worth the fight,
All Y’Alls would have gotten old.
Packing and unpacking,
Finally put on hold.
Sun tans restored,
Test comes up clean.
An extra night,
In St. Augustine.
Road Trip Limoges, One of Each. Rock n’ Roll Drums, Plus, a bag for the beach.
Thirteen different beds,
Now we’re finally home.
Just a few more weeks,
Until again we roam.
Copyright 2022 johnstonwrites.com
Leave a Reply