Back in the Ridge
The door is locked, the bags are dropped, and the coffee is brewing. We’re finally back in Bristol.
The trip home was a mixed bag. Zippy handled the miles like a seasoned pro, proving once again that three legs are more than enough to navigate a long haul. He settled in and kept his cool, even when the road decided to get stubborn.
The Long Way North
South Carolina decided to give us a parting gift in the form of a bottleneck. We hit a wall of brake lights on I-95 North, the kind of traffic that tests your patience and makes you wish for a backroad that doesn’t exist.
Once we banked onto I-26 West near Spartanburg, the sky opened up. It wasn’t just a drizzle; it was a steady, gray soak that followed us all the way to the state line. By the time we hit Johnson City, the sky really let loose. It was a torrential downpour—the kind where your wipers can’t keep up and the world turns into a blur of asphalt and water.
Peace and Post-Game
There’s a specific kind of quiet that hits after you’ve spent hours fighting the elements on the interstate. Now that we’re unpacked and the house is settled, the rain on the roof is just background noise.
Christy and I are parked on the couch, watching college basketball and letting the adrenaline of the road fade out. It’s good to be home. The mountains have a way of shielding you from the noise of the world, even when it’s pouring outside.
“Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” — Psalm 46:10