Charlotte to Richmond

We both noticed that showing up at the morning and evening events reminded us of going to marathons.  Just like running a long race, chatting with people along the way, we because firm friends with many Mini owners from different walks of life, although they were complete strangers and drove back home again after the race, as we did.  We asked each other similar questions that we asked fellow runners:

• Where are you from?
• What kind of car are you driving?
• How far are you going? (are you running the "Full" or the "Half"?)
• Is this your first Mini Takes the States? (your first marathon?)

In Atlanta, we even stood and sang the National Anthem, Mini caps doffed and held over hearts.  The lanyards hanging around our necks were like medals given to finishers.  And everybody was taking photos of each other, just like at marathons.  Even the big round tables where we ate breakfast, set up under tents or in big rooms along the way, and the Porta-Johns lined up here and there, reminded us of the long lines on marathon morning.  But the race was not over; each day we began a new adventure, we packed again and headed out on the road.  So perhaps it more closely resembled the Tour de France, a new stage day after day, climbing through beautiful terrain and either closely grouped with other riders or willingly dropping behind to enjoy the ride.

For some reason, I began to remember old songs all along our journey, and the one that came to mind as we began another day was Paul Simon's "America," surely one of the most beautiful poems about travel and about America (and the uneasy adventures that we embark upon when young) ever composeda; it contains toward the end that single lovely line that I admired so much as a young poet, "The moon rose over an open field."

"Let us be lovers, we'll marry our fortunes together
I've got some real estate here in my bag
So we bought a pack of cigarettes, and Mrs. Wagner pies
And we walked off to look for America."

And perhaps we were in some way looking for America on this trip, here in the middle of this summer filled with so much political turmoil and violence, trying to understand a little what kind of a people we are becoming.

Another start on a racetrack, this time the Charlotte Motor Speedway, and the same row upon row of Minis ready to circle another track and head out on the road.  One of the many unique things about MTTS is that that some of the executives from Mini USA join in; their German-accented voices were an odd way to start this journey across America.  "Let's go motoring!" one of them would say, and we would all head to our cars and start our engines.

Mini owners delight in the uniqueness of their cars and take a kind of subversive, anarchistic pride in their size; I wandered again between the cars, reading vanity license plates;

NOTBIG

FUNSIZE

MINIHULK (green, of course)

QUIXXOTE

LITLKING

WLDTHING

MINIBEAR

We rolled through some of the prettiest countryside we had seem thus far on the way to Richmond.  You see many abandoned houses in this type of country, and many years ago I would go on summer photo shoots with our daughter Katy, taking pictures of kudzu-covered bridges, collapsing barns, houses falling slowly into the ground.  One house we passed had a shock of foliage growing out of the open front door and two windows on each size, like a child bawling, two fists to his eyes.

The Surprise and Delight today was, for some unaccountable reason, the Sadler Travel Plaza in Emporia, Virginia - tall glasses of iced tea replaced by squat bottles of warm water - a real disappointment.  But not every surprise is delightful, I suppose, and this was the only false note in the adventure Mini had organized for us each day.  So we navigated to an "unofficial" event we had found out about, at the Hardywood Brewery.  And what a surprise to suddenly pass by and recognize the Arthur Ashe Fitness Center in this industrial part of town, the place where we have picked up our marathon packets in the past for the Richmond Marathon!  I recall walking out into the parking lot on the eve of another marathon, gazing over at the fence at these very buildings!  Life sometimes circles back on itself in strange and beautiful ways.

At day's end we found a very good Thai restaurant, Sang Jun, a block away from our motel.  Old cities like Richmond have these places scattered everywhere, grand houses from another era converted to little restaurants, a brick-walled courtyard and a pretty garden outside where we sat under shady trees and reflected on this long day, listening to the steady drone of locusts over our heads.