We bade Kelly and Nancy goodbye and began our official trek back to Nashville. We took smaller highways through Virginia, down to Bristol, Tennessee. All the while, we were passing through just fantastically beautiful rural country, similar to the farms we saw during a certain stretch of the Blue Ridge Parkway. Rolling hills, green as can be, old oak and hickory trees sprinkling our road with shade. It was one of those moments I would like to keep and stretch out for a few more days.
Anyhow, we made camp in lovely little Bristol, right on the edge of Cherokee National Forest. However, beforehand, we stopped at a gas station in town to "get our bearings," at which point Franco made one of the greatest mistakes to which I've ever bared witness.
Situation: Franc is pumping our gas, and I go inside the mini mart. When I come back out, we find our camping spot on his phone, set the navigation, get into our car (Franc driving), and pull away. At that moment, we hear a loud thud. Franc stops the car, peeks his head out the window, and immediately turns back toward me, shocked, his mouth open with disbelief. With this, I step out of the car, believing our bumper or something has fallen off.
Turns out, big-time Franc had pulled away from the station--with gas pump still in car. The best part was that the awkward teenage gas attendant, who had been sweeping out front, was frozen, staring at the detached hose. He was interrupted by Franco's hesitant inquiry, "So... what happens now...?"
In the end, nothing happened, and the manager told us to simply leave the station. We made a lot of similar mistakes on the trip while driving (leaving cell phone on top of car, leaving keys in door, leaving gas nozzle open, leaving shoes on top of car...), but Franc really did something special that day, and I applaud him for it. All in all, I couldn't have asked for a better experience to end our last full day on the road.
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