Dear friend Judy called in the moment I was deciding to stop, and that sealed our fate. Judy said for me to rest. I was tired (almost weepy), and I had to sleep.
The Motel 6 in Cookeville was passable, but not stellar. We had a room on the second floor, the bathroom was tiny (barely room for a butt on the potty because the walls were so close), but there was a queen bed. It was around 11 (p. m.), and I had a wake-up call coming at 6. We had just enough energy to drag our “devices” (laptops, Nooks, etc.) and our carcasses up the two flights to the room. We were settling in when our friends, Joseph and Pam, called to check on us. (To meet them, see Mother Trucker-Part 1) They are the COOLEST! After connecting the phones to charge, we crawled into bed.
After being told about breakfast at 6, we trudged to the car with our devices, drove to the office area, and went looking for food. We found only coffee. I was slightly (!) annoyed. We drove across the street (in a huff), grabbed a coffee and topped off the tank. Cookeville was a memory in no time!
Ysabela kept helping watch signs for Bluefield. It finally appeared. When it was 14 miles away, Ysabela was ready to do a happy dance. I was too, but I explained that we were NOT going all the way to Bluefield—our exit was SOONER! I finally spotted the exit we needed, gave a war whoop (we are part Cherokee) and felt like