After watching (but not listening to) Shrek 3 on the airplane, and losing two hours due to flying east, we arrived in Nashville, Tennessee.
The first thing I thought the instant I stepped off the plane and onto the jetway, or whatever you want to call that bridge that connects the airplane to the terminal, was "You have got to be kidding me!" because it was just so dang hot! I realized that jeans and a sweatshirt weren't going to cut it for very long.
Our rental was a not-so-pimp white PT Cruiser, in good shape except for the badly stained seats. We kept checking to see if the e-brake was off, because this thing had no power. Now, I'm used to having vehicles with no power (cough cough B2000), but this one was especially weak. It would downshift and make noise, all while remaining at exactly the same speed. It was quite remarkable, actually.
With maps entrusted to the disoriented MonicaMonica (not TomTom), we embraced our roles as tourists and headed north, crossing into Kentucky. We knew we were staying at a Best Western in Bowling Green, and that's about all. Luckily, we identified the skyscraper-like Best Western sign once in Bowling Green, and drove right to it.
And then we saw the first signs of evidence. A cluster of ridiculously low trucks parked in front of the hotel indicated this was no ordinary weekend in Bowling Green. Instantly, I felt like a little kid again! It just reminded me that if you throw a truck show, trucks will make the trek and go, nomatter where it is they have to go! It never gets old to me; it's fresh and exciting each time I see a group of trucks.
As the night grew on, the hotel seemed like the place to be, as trucks, people, and vehicles swarmed the parking lot. The hotel also had a Red Bull machine, which I had never seen before. Let me tell you, in Southern California we probably wouldn't be able to get away with this, as cops would most likely shut it down. Others were apparently not as paranoid as me, which was nice to see.