Now Hear This: Back roads are the way to travel
They’re everywhere. Huge billboards, in towns and along the interstate, that tell us to buy this or that, and why we should.
They instruct us to get off at exit 238 five miles ahead on the right, where we’ll find McDonald’s, Cracker Barrel, Hampton Inn, FIREWORKS, Exxon, theme parks, and a thousand other things.
But I’ve discovered the best signs are those you find on the back roads of America, especially the ones that are hand written. Returning from our recent vacation to Florida traveling off the interstate through Tennessee and Alabama, my wife, Pat, and I began to notice the difference between the signs on the two-lanes and the ones on I-65.
“Bobby Jean’s Grocery” the hand-written sign read, with an arrow showing the way. Now, right about here, if you were a Yankee heading to Florida, and found yourself lost, when you saw that sign you could bet you were somewhere in the deep South.
People up North don’t have double first names, but chances are real good if you stopped by Bobby Jean’s Grocery she would be more than happy to help you out, if she could understand you ? and vice versa, of course.
Maybe because they wanted to set themselves apart from all others, the sign read, “DeFuniak Hotel.” Then in large letters – “CLEAN ROOMS.” I appreciate truth in advertising.
Another hand-written sign along the two-lane said, “Hand-Dipped Homemade Ice Cream.” I personally prefer using a spoon, but if that’s how it’s done in these parts, I thought, just point me in the right direction.
One of my favorites was the “Gitty-Up-N-Go Market.” But from the looks of the patrons hanging out at the Gitty-Up-N-Go, the name should be changed to, “The Big Easy.”
One small, friendly looking town (they’re all small, and they’re all friendly) wanted to make sure its visitors understood how they felt about littering. The sign said, “Don’t throw trash. If you do, we’ll gladly take your cash.” I didn’t speed through there either!
Folks off the beaten path have a strong confidence level about what they do. As we were leaving one place the sign read, “Farmers’ Market – If we grow it ? you’ll like it.” There was no money-back guarantee offered, but I figured their word was good enough for me, and when I saw the sign that said, “Walkin’ Man’s Friend Used Car Lot,” I knew there was a place I could do business.
I’m still kicking myself for not stopping at “Miss Lou’s Buffet.” For 10 miles after reading that sign I was still thinking about all the fried chicken, mashed potatoes, fresh grown tomatoes, green beans, turnips, cornbread, and sweet tea, I know Miss Lou was serving. Not to mention her homemade blueberry pie.
I also noticed all the “large” people who were coming in and out of “Miss Lou’s.” That’s all the advertisement I needed.
Somewhere in Alabama, Sunrise Road leads to Morning Calm Farm and the speed limit is 45. Along that two-lane, wild honeysuckle grows, the red clover hugs the asphalt, and there are rows of pecan trees and double-wides with kids in plastic swimming pools. We passed “Sister’s Flea Market” and “Shorty’s Guns, Bait and Beer.”
Life just doesn’t get any more delightfully unique and basic than on the back roads of America.
But the sign Pat and I voted number one was: “Handmade Quilts and Pigs!”
(Hope Hines is a television sports reporter and a Nashville personality.)