So, once more it was up early, before dawn and onto the road, destination - home, back to things familiar. From Cape Girardeau, MO to home is over 700 miles. We settled for a substitute breakfast at Micky D's, and headed into Arkansas. Jim took the wheel and I took a nap. I was awakened to a huge banging, thumping sound and, the truck bumped hard. I came awake immediately thinking 'Damn...We're lost a trailer bearing.' As I turned to look at the trailer wheel in the mirror, Jim said, "Sorry, I hit a truck tread in the road. I tried to avoid it, but there was too much."
"Let's pull over and make sure everything is all right."
We stopped on the shoulder of I-40 and I got out and walked back to the boat. Maybe a couple of minor scratches in the gelcoat, but I wasn't sure if they were there when I got her. The trailer light plug had been pulled out of the socket on the truck, which was bent up by the loose tread that had passed under the truck. I straightened the socket and reconnected the lights. We tested the lights and noticed that the left running light was not working. Jim reported no leaks from the truck, and so we got back on the road.
The trip down I-40 into Little Rock was otherwise uneventful. We stopped at a restaurant on the west side of Little Rock, near Benton, and had a proper lunch. We refuelled, and bought a replacement light bulb for the trailer. On down the road we went, I called Kathy and made arrangements to meet her for dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant.
We stopped for fuel at a truck stop near Texarkana, and examinesd the trailer light- luckily it was onyl the bulb that was broken for a few coins, we repaired it, restocked our refreshments and proceeded into Texas. The familiar highway 59 wound it's way toward Houston. We passed Timpson, Tenaha but not Bobo nor Blair... I haven't decided if East Texas is pretty or not. There's no reason for it to not be, except the trees are a bit scrubby, and there's always a feeling I get when I travel through there. Like there's a feeling of helplessness, a sadness, a feeling of disapointment. Perhaps it's the poverty that appears to be there.
We finally got back into Houston at dusk. We crossed the Fred Hartman bridge over the Houston Ship Channel and went south. Got Jim back home to his family, thanked him for his help, and met Kathy for dinner. A whirlwind trip to be sure, but it was good to get out of town for a few days.