I got off to my usual later than I wanted start and proceeded at a good pace until I got north of Bradenton, Florida, whereupon I hit rain that would last until the Florida - Georgia border. I think that in twenty-six years of driving I had only made it twice from Venice to the Florida border without hitting any rain, and this wasn't one of those times. Curiously, almost as soon as I exited the (liquid) Sunshine State, the sun came out and it made for some nice driving conditions, even in the construction areas in South Georgia. With the exception of some bucking on a few concrete sections of interstate where the combination of a short wheelbase, speed, and expansion joints set up some unwelcome harmonics, my MINI was turning out to be quite a comfortable touring car. It wasn't long before I reached Tifton, Georgia, where I would cut across southern Georgia and Alabama to Birmingham, and then on to Huntsville to stay with relatives.

As I had stated before, it had been ten years since I had been out of the state of Florida, so the hills and mountains were something of a novelty to me. I almost felt like I was on a roller coaster in some sections. I even found myself muttering "WEEEE!" as I crested some of the steeper hills and valleys. Unfortunately the novelty quickly wore off after darkness fell as I started to get a case of vertigo. I would see the taillights disappear in front of me, and then I felt like I was driving off into a black abyss until I finally crested the hill and started to see the car in front of me again. When I finally arrived in Huntsville, I was ready to get out of the car for a little while.

For the next day and a half I buzzed around Huntsville, visiting with family and playing tourist at the U.S. Space & Rocket Center. It had been a decade since I had been there and found that they have made a very impressive addition to the museum. While you can see actual Apollo-era Saturn V rockets displayed on their sides in several places around the country including the Space Center, only in Huntsville do they have a full-scale 364-foot tall replica standing upright, as if ready to launch. It must have been really something to have been at the Cape to watch one of them launch back in the heady days of the Apollo program.

            I left Huntsville in mid-afternoon, headed for Kentucky and another set of relatives. After passing through Nashville, I arrived just in time for dinner with the family. My game plan had been to spend Saturday night and part of Sunday with my relatives, and then travel to Memphis, Tennessee Sunday afternoon to join the MINI Takes the States Rally as it left on Monday. I don't know if it was the delayed effects of being out in the heat and humidity in Huntsville for several hours at the space center, or a case of food poisoning from the spinach in my salads from the previous days, (a real possibility as we now know from the recalls in the recent news) but after dinner I became violently ill. All night long and most of the next day I was hating life, wishing someone would put me out of my misery. I was just extremely thankful that I was with family, and not in some hotel in a strange city, or alongside the side of a road across a cornfield in the middle of nowhere. Needless to say I didn't make it to Memphis.

            About mid-day on Monday I decided I was going to live, so I decided to try to go ahead and join the rally in Nashville. MINI USA had taken over Centennial Park and was hosting a music festival for rally participants and assorted locals with John Hiatt headlining. They had set up a tent city on the lawn in front of the Parthenon, with the stage, VIP area for rally participants, a dinner tent, and assorted vendor tents. As I entered the park I was amazed at the number MINI's I saw, both classic Mini's and current production. Fireball Tim Lawrence even had the world's fastest MINI on hand, having trailered it all the way from California. He and his crew were doing the whole 4,000 miles with the 600 horsepower MINI drag car that is capable of turning 11.26 seconds in the quarter mile. Not your average MINI...

After checking in and getting my travelog stamped for Nashville, I located fellow Floridians James and Cathy from Sunshine MINIs in the VIP tent. It was nice to finally meet in person some of the people with whom I have been conversing with for the last couple of years online.

I was about ready to cry when I found out that the famous Loveless Cafe was catering the dining tent. With my tummy still being extremely tender, I didn't dare try to partake of the wonderful southern cooking. At least I was able to buy several jars of their delicious blackberry preserves there on site, saving me a detour on the way home.

Overall the music was very good and the company was great, but being as I still wasn't at 100%, I decided to head out to my hotel on Music Row. This was not a moment too soon as the bottom fell out of the clouds just as I arrived at the hotel. I imagine it wasn't a fun scene when the storm hit the park while the concert was still going on.

            We met back at the park early Tuesday morning to pick up the route sheets for the day's journey to St. Louis. In addition to the tailgate party at the Cardinals versus Marlins baseball game in St. Louis, MINI USA had arranged for us to get admission to the Superman Museum in Metropolis, Illinois. While we all set off at about the same time, the different paces people traveled soon meant that there were MINI's strung out over three states.

            On most of the legs of the trip, the organizers also provided an "off the beaten path" alternate route for those of an adventurous nature who wanted to get off the interstate highway and explore. Today's alternate route ran right through my old hometown of Cadiz, Kentucky, and then westward to the Land Between the Lakes recreational area, then north up The Trace to rejoin the interstate near the Kentucky Dam area. I couldn't resist the thought of hundreds of MINI's invading this small farming town and made my way to Cadiz. As it was getting somewhat close to lunchtime, I decided to stop at a little greasy spoon restaurant I remembered from childhood. You would have thought I had drove up in an UFO with all the looks and comments I received. After eating what little I dared to, I proceeded on to The Trace. While I know I have traveled this road as a child, I didn't remember it being so entertaining. Packed with curves and elevation changes, it was a perfect road for having fun in a MINI. I made a mental note that I would someday have to return and run it without a load of luggage and provisions clanging around in the back of the car.

            After rejoining I-24 and crossing the Ohio River at Paducah, Kentucky, I decided to stop in Metropolis and check out the Superman Museum. It turned out to be in the heart of the little town, directly across from the courthouse. In fact the larger than life Superman statue was located directly in front of the courthouse. As I pulled into the town square, it was lined with dozens of MINI's, with people jumping out of their cars to take pictures and pose with the statue. The local citizens were coming out of the courthouse and sheriff's department just to see this invasion of the little cars and the lunatics that were driving them. Fireball Tim and his crew showed up and just about shut down the square. After wandering through the museum, I decided it was time to head out for St. Louis and to try to make up some time.

            As the pack sped through the gentle rolling hills of southern Illinois surrounded by cornfields, members of the Illinois State Police began to take notice. I know several MINI's were ticketed, and I had a trooper follow me for about seven miles, periodically zapping me with his radar. I was smugly thinking that he couldn't cite me as I had the cruise control set for 70. My sense of safety vaporized when I finally noticed the speed limit sign stating 65 MPH. Thank goodness for MINI's fabled speedometer error being to the high side instead of the low side.

            I approached St. Louis at rush hour, with the Arch gradually appearing through the overcast grey haze. I was lucky that I was heading into the city when all the locals were heading out, so the traffic wasn’t that bad. A cold front was coming through, bringing light rain and temperatures in the lower 60's. It was a refreshing change from sweltering in mid-90's and 100% humidity in the "Sultry South". As I slowly crossed the bridge into town, I reflected on the thought that this would be the first time I was ever west of the Mississippi River. As it turned out, I didn't get very far west of it, only about a mile, but it was the farthest west I had ever been.

After checking into my hotel and freshening up a bit, I set off for the MINI tailgate party near Busch Stadium. MINI USA had taken over a parking lot near the stadium, and set up a huge tent with catering, plasma and projection TV's to watch the game, and all sorts of inflatable furniture to give it a living room sort of feeling. My friends James and Cathy got there early enough to win one of the many sets of tickets for skybox seats, so they left for the game in short order. I had heard about a local legend for wonderful frozen custard call Ted Drew's on a program called Feasting on Asphalt on the Food Network. I was trying to get someone to join me to make a run out to pick some up. One of the people I spoke to simply pointed to an oversized ice chest by the buffet table. Once again MINI, or in this case I believe it was the local MINI club, came through with a local delight, as the chest was full of cups of the frozen custard.

            I awoke to a cool, overcast day. The plan was to meet up on the levy at the base of the Arch for breakfast and an aerial group photo. By my fortunate choice of hotels, it took me all of a minute and a half to get there. They were lining us up on the slanted brickwork on the side of the river bank, to within 20 feet of the water's edge. It was a little disconcerting when you first drove down onto the bricks, as if the car got away from you, you could easily end up in the river. Fortunately everyone was smart enough to use his or her parking brakes. We all lined up at the base of the Arch and waved as the camera plane made multiple passes. I counted in excess of 260 MINI's on site.

            Once the photography and socializing was over, it was time for us to leave in masse. Imagine the chase scene from the Italian Job remake, multiply it by hundred, and you will have a good idea of what occurred on our way out of the city and into the southern Illinois countryside. It was like a race to Indy, and people were flying low. Since I had not refilled my tank since Kentucky, I had to stop for gas after about thirty miles. I saw a lone Shell station seemingly sprouting up from in the midst of a corn field and decided that this would be as good of a place as any. As I pulled up I noticed I was getting looks from the locals. I guess they don't get many MINI's there. Things got even stranger for them as while I pumped my gas, Fireball Tim pulled up in a MINI GP, followed by eight or nine other MINI's. Again the locals looked at us like we were Martians. I guess Tim has what you would call an attention getting presence.

            The group had gotten fairly strung out as we approached the Indiana border, but I did manage to hook back up with James and Cathy and we proceeded with a group of five or six cars to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Upon arriving we found that the local MINI club had arranged for us to take a parade lap on the track for a $10.00 donation to a local children's charity. MINI USA had set up a nice hospitality area and had arranged for us to get admission to the Speedway museum and bus tour. The bus tour was informative and the museum had a surprising number of famous cars, including a number of sports cars that never turned a wheel in anger at the Speedway. One car of note was an original Cooper Climax open-wheeled car that could be considered one of the forbearers of the Mini Cooper. It even had the white stripes on the British Racing Green nose.

            When we returned to the hospitality center there was a brief presentation with Jim McDowell, President of MINI USA, and various other MINI officials. He stated that with well over 300 MINI's gathered, that this was the largest gathering of MINI's in the United States up to that time. Jim dismissed us to our cars for our lap of Indy with the call of "Ladies and gentlemen, let’s motor!" The crowd was buzzing with excitement as we mounted up and were slowly lead out to the track. I must admit to a bit of personal vanity as I had slapped on my magnetic numbers and British Car Club of Southwest Florida signs I use when I autocross. It turned out to be somewhat fortuitous that I did that as it would have been virtually impossible to identify my car from the dozens of other Indie Blue / White MINI's in the photos shot of us on the track.

            We entered the track on the back straight had headed toward turns three and four. Frustratingly we had been asked to go no faster than 35 MPH for safety reasons. Of course a few people managed a bit more. When we reached the brick stripe that marks the start/finish line, the pack bunched up as people slowed down to make sure the photographers stationed there got a chance for some good shots. Then it was on to turns one and two and the exit, opposite of where we entered the track. It was kind of a clever way to get everyone out of the facility in a fairly short period of time.

            After everyone exited the Speedway, a large number of drivers congregated in the parking lot across the street for some more socializing. A hot orange Cooper convertible that had been T-boned in the driver's side door just hours before was kind of scary looking, but the driver and passenger were just fine as there was no penetration of the cockpit. The car was still perfectly drivable; you just couldn't open the driver's door. It just shows how tuff these little cars really are. The owner had a pretty good sense of humor about the whole thing and was having everyone sign the door with a marker.

            After a fitful night's sleep in a less than pleasant hotel in downtown Indianapolis, I joined the crowd at the check-in point near the Conseco Fieldhouse. I bid my friends goodbye and headed south for Kentucky as the rally continued eastward toward the next stop in West Virginia. As it turned out they were headed into the torrential rains from Tropical Storm Ernesto. I understand that there was a multiple MINI crash that was directly attributable to the weather on one of the legs affected by the storm.

            I continued south through still more cornfields and eventually crossed the Ohio River back into Kentucky at Louisville. It was then an uneventful drive back my relatives in Hopkinsville. I spent the next day resting up for the long drive home, although I did make a brief run down to Clarksville, Tennessee, to visit the charming Beachhaven Vineyard and Winery. For many years I have enjoyed their delightful Golden Rose, and wanted to pick-up a few more bottles to take home.

            I was happy to get off to a bit earlier start than I had on my trip up. I was going to drive the longest leg of my trip, from Hopkinsville back to North Port, almost 900 miles.

I decided to go the most direct route, I-24 to I-75 to home, a route that I have not been in over twenty years. The most interesting bit of this route was crossing over the top of Mount Eagle, northwest of Chattanooga, Tennessee. As I approached the base of the mountain, I noticed you could not see the top as that was above the cloud line. As I ascended, I watched the exterior temperature gauge in the tach drop ten degrees as I crested the top inside the clouds. The way down the other side was a 6% grade, which meant you had to be careful not to collect too much speed. Evidently the semi-trucks that ply the route have that issue often as both runaway truck ramps on the mountain displayed evidence of recently being used.

            My only trepidation on taking this route was driving through Atlanta. Many of my family members warned me of going anywhere near Atlanta due to the horrendous traffic. I don't know if it was the fact that I was going through on a Saturday, or that many people were out of town due to the holiday weekend, but I sailed right through the downtown area. All that was left was the uneventful eight-hour slog to home.

             I must say that with the one notable exception, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. All I can say is: Hey MINI USA! When can we do it again? How about coming a little closer to Florida