Georgia or Bust

Five hours worth of Bruce Springsteen songs, two brave pilots, one epic journey, and an acoustic guitar. Anyone with an education can finish that equation, unless of course you’re the barefoot, toothless, drunk that loiters outside of the local liquor store singing old Hank Williams songs.

We began our journey August 10, 2008 departing from Irwin, Pennsylvania, more specifically, Route 30; the lifeline of Western Pennsylvania and a main artery I wouldn’t dare deviate from. I dared. I deviated. I’m lost.

…but I digress.
After thirteen hours, three stops for fuel and coffee, and a jaunt around a South Carolinaian waffle house, we finally arrived at our destination, Gainesville, Georgia. My little Chevrolet Cavalier ran like a champion, a fine piece of machinery that I could only assume was crafted with good ol’ Northern inginuity.

Of course, I think my muffler is falling off, but that’s nothing a rusty coat hanger can’t fix. I’ll have one of the gear-heads do it for me, after all, I’m delicate.