Wow. Who knew things could actually work out? After I stopped in Franklin Friday night, I called the shipper to see if the load out of Cherokee would be ready a day early. "No, it's not ready and it's not scheduled to load until Sunday." Ah, well. It was worth a shot. On the off chance that is was, I knew I could get from Franklin to Cherokee to home in one day.
So I got rolling Saturday morning and got good news upon arriving at Cherokee - the load was, in fact, ready. Apparently they had loaded it after I called and it was done at 5am. Perfect. A quick drop-and-hook later and I was ready to head to Georgia. I got in late, but that's better than nothing.
While driving through Alabama yesterday, I noticed there was a race at Talladega. I was passed by a couple of cars with writing on the back windshield. And I laughed out loud when I saw the first one. In big white letters: "Go Kyle Bush #18". Now, I don't consider myself a huge fan of NASCAR and I don't watch the races. If I hadn't seen that car, I couldn't have told you that Kyle was #18. But for crying out loud, even I know that his last name is spelled "Busch". NASCAR fans, you just don't do yourself any favors.
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