It’s taken us four days and 93 miles, but we’ve finally managed to cross the little town of Dallas. It was a tad larger than some of the other places we’ve been through so far.
During our time in Dallas, we were treated to the life of luxury by Liz and Ed Morgan, who managed to cross the U.S. in 2008…and not via the shortest possible route like us either! You can read of their, more interesting, trip here (http://www.trailjournals.com/WalkingWest08). Their hospitality meant that not only did we not have to carry our bags whilst walking (as they ferried us back and forth each day), but also that we had real food each day. That’s right, we had to sacrifice the Domino’s pasta bread bowl (seriously, who thought that making crockery out of bread was the future!?) for proper food in shades other than beige. We also had the joy of finding out that we weren’t the only two people on earth who found the width of hard shoulders or the placing of mile markers interesting.
One thing we’ve noticed a lot of whilst walking is the ubiquitous ‘historical marker’. These are roadside plaques commemorating the fact that something once happened somewhere near the location of the plaque. These markers are usually accompanied with great fanfare; a notice upon entering the city limits that there are historical markers in the city (our excitement begins to grow at this point); a sign a mile in advance, warning you that you’re getting dangerously close to the site of a momentous event in history; and finally, a sign across on the other side of the road, telling you that you are in the presence of history. After reading the marker, you usually find out that there used to be a building where you were standing, but that building no longer exists. And when it did exist, moderately interesting stuff happened there; such as it serving as a town hall, or even someone’s house. Woo!
A few days ago, our route did take us directly passed a pivotal site in U.S. history; the assassination spot of John F. Kennedy. We were thrilled to see a historical marker in the vicinity, but alas! It was about something completely different. Obviously, Kennedy isn’t yet deserving of the honour of the plaque. Fortunately though, Ed was on hand to explain where we were. The plaque obviously couldn’t take the heat.
We have also now departed from Highway 80, which we had roughly followed since Tybee Island. We’ll now be alongside Interstate 20 for the next several hundred miles. I’m sure this is the sort of thing that Dylan was talking about when he sung that the times they are a changing.