Jacksonville Road Trip

The banks of the river run through my hometown
As a boy I ran the dirt roads, and I scraped my knees
Well they paved the roads eventually
With neon signs and car dealerships and diners
- "Jacksonville Skyline" by Whiskeytown

Yesterday, for the lack of anything better to do, I went on a bit of a road trip. It wasn't exactly The Odyssey, but it was reatively eventful for a Saturday drive. I left Charlotte at about 11, and my target was Jacksonville, NC, for no better reason than it was one of the few placenames I recognised on the map that was within striking distance. Jacksonville is where the singer Ryan Adams (a particular favourite of mine) was born, and a fair few of his songs mention it.

The suburbs of Charlotte were absolutely nothing special. Endless Pizza Huts, Walmarts, Home Depots and KFCs. I was hoping for a Starbucks to get my morning hot chocolate, but even that wasn't forthcoming. Even the half-decent chains are too good for North Carolina, it seems. Once out of Charlotte the countryside swiftly got more picturesque - rolling, wooded hills - and the small towns I passed through got prettier. I was clearly in the south - houses invariably had the stars and stripes flying from the porch, and churches beyond number with billboards imploring you to come in and be born again. Some were reasonably imaginative - "YOU CAN FOOL YOURSELF, BUT YOU CAN'T FOOL GOD!" - while others were more predictable, such as the matter-of-fact "JESUS SAVES".

Lacking more palatable options, I breakfasted/lunched on KFC, served by a vacant-eyed youth with a voice like the spotty guy in the Simpsons. Unfortunately, I must report that Kentucky Fried Chicken is no better in the South than anywhere else - just a bucket of grease. I've been told (admittedly by Southerners) that "real" southern fried chicken is something to be savoured, and have been directed to an establishment in Charlotte called The Chicken Coop. Haven't got round to it yet though... On the intersection outside the KFC a girl was standing in the central reservation, wearing possibly the worst Statue of Liberty costume ever devised, and holding a placard saying "Have fun! Do your tax return!". Poor thing.

On my way again, I must have let the sunny day and the grease go to my head, as out of the corner of my eye I saw a police car turning out of a layby over the road and make its way at haste towards me, lights a-blaze. Heart in mouth (I'd never been "chased" by the police before!), I pulled over and waited for what seemed like an age, watching the cop chatting away on his radio, presumably checking that my car wasn't reported as belonging to someone on the run. Satisfied, he ambled over and drawled "Ya'll in a bit of a hurry there, eh son?". Turned out I'd been doing 58 in a 35mph zone, so fair play to him. In my defense though, the roads are very big and the speed signs very small. He took my license back to his car to mull things over with the people on the end of his radio, presumably discussing whether to lynch this limey on the spot or send me to a church to repent my sins. Meanwhile, the thought crossed my mind that I had just missed out on getting myself on Police! Camera! Action!, and that it's not often that kind of opportunity presents itself. Unfortunately for our slightly dim copper, it turned out he couldn't do anything to me since my license is out of state, and he sent me on my merry way with a slightly more cautious right foot.

It took me a couple of hours to get to Jacksonville, which wasn't particularly exciting once I got there, to be fair. It's essentially a military base with a town stuck on the end. Enormous twin-rotored helicopters buzzed overhead, and a barber shop proudly proclaimed that is specialised in military haircuts. Hardly the most challenging hairstyle to specialise in - they should shoot for something a little more adventurous, like mullets or something. The rest of the town was pretty much gun shops, pawn shops and strip joints, none of whose wares I sampled.

The drive back to Charlotte was markedley less eventful, though I did stop off in the woods for an immensely enjoyable moonlit cigarette, with awesomely bright stars for company.