Chapter 2

When I reached the road, I stopped before reaching the asphalt to consider my options.

I had not really thought much about where I was going or why. I had headed west on I-64 and kept moving forward until I reached the top of a long grade just west of Charlottesville. The Blue Ridge Parkway and Skyline Drive were ahead, according to the signs, and for some reason I'd been drawn to idea of traveling the scenic roadway once again. It would be slower than the interstate, but that wasn't an issue. I didn't know where I was going anyway. Somehow, the idea of the Parkway seemed peaceful — a curvy, two-lane road with little traffic, especially this time of night, and various overlooks and pull-offs so that, if necessary, I could stop driving and just sit and think.

I made sure to stop at the convenience store near the top of Afton Mountain for a fill-up with gas and a few snacks. I knew it was likely there would be nothing open along the way, and I was unfamiliar with the area of the Parkway from I-64 to Roanoke, and was not interested in getting lost trying to find a gas station in the middle of nowhere.

Good call there, Einstein.

Just as I had thought, I passed several places I could pull over, but nothing more. A few signs pointed to various places of interest, but there were no lights, no signs of activity. I crossed a few Parkway entrances as well, with signs pointing the way to various towns, but held to my plan of pushing onward to Roanoke before thinking about stopping.

But it was thinking about something else that had me standing here on the side of the road, wondering which way to go.

Behind was nothing of immediate help. Further west were at least a couple of attractions, maybe some type of station for the rangers who patrolled the Parkway. But there was nothing certain - other than miles of wet, cold pavement and impending pain.

I could always go back to the car.

As I stood there, a memory floated up to the front of my mind. Sitting in traffic on the Powhite Parkway, backed up for who knows how many miles due to an accident ahead. Maria reached over and touched my arm as I furiously worked to move us from lane to lane to take the next exit off and move onto surface streets. "What's your hurry?" she asked, her eyes laughing at me. "I just don't like standing still," I answered, more than a little churlishly.

I just don't like standing still. So be it.

I started walking west.