Monday morning outbound

I just launched Mr. Abby out the door from our romantic-yet-slightly-seedy weekend location back to his class. I'm awake (yes, it is an ungodly hour) and, after one more nice hotel shower, will be on the road again.

With such an early start, I could make it home today with no problem. But I'm contemplating a different stop for the night, since I noticed on the way here that 95 runs close to the water in southern South Carolina. There's an island in the coastal swamp there that I visited once and left ten years ago which I think I'd like to see again, so a stop may be in order.

I have to admit that I love being on the road by myself. I really really love being on the road by myself without the Bad Dogs. I'm getting pretty good at traveling with them, but it makes everything a production. It's nice to be able to stop and get out and go in to eat without worry that they'll cook, freeze, eat someone, or escape.

Key to a happy Road Trip is decent music. When I made the Georgia Run last weekend I somehow managed to leave the CDs at home, and so I was dependent on the radio and the one George Strait CD I had in the Jeep. Not so this time, so it's a hoot.

My drive will take me back by Fayetteville. I smiled getting off the highway there on the way in. I deployed out of and returned to Fort Bragg, so all the road signs brought back memories of driving around, trying to find the right piece of gear before we left, trying to find a coffee place, looking for the perfect bar.

I won't stop anywhere there, but maybe at the island down south. Who'd'a thunk I95 would turn out to be Memory Lane?

OK. Enough disjointed morning rambling. A shower and some clothes. Then there's a Dunkin' Donuts about a mile down the road, and I can hear something horribly unhealthy but oh-so-yummy calling my name.