Alright, buckle up ’cause this Dallas to Nashville drive ain’t no joke. I rolled outta bed at 5AM stuffing my duffel bag with beef jerky and energy drinks. Grabbed my dusty atlas – yeah, the paper one – since phone service gets patchy in Arkansas nowhere-land. Threw the bag in my beat-up Silverado, checked oil levels, and cranked that engine till it growled proper.
HITTING THE ROAD
Cruised through Dallas suburbs as sun came up, watching traffic build like slow-cooker stew. Hit I-30 East doing 75mph passing trucks hauling God-knows-what. Stopped in Texarkana for biscuits drowned in gravy at some truck stop joint. Waitress called me “sugar” six times – thought about getting that on my tombstone.
ARKANSAS SLOG
Crossed into Arkansas feeling good till I hit that stretch between Little Rock and Memphis. Felt like driving through lukewarm soup. Nothing but pine trees and billboards shouting “FIREWORKS!”. Stopped to pee at a gas station where the bathroom key was chained to a hubcap. Bought a lukewarm Dr Pepper that tasted like sadness.
- Trucker wisdom: Some fella at a pump told me “Memphis drivers got two speeds – asleep or tryna die”
- Eat or die: Ate gas station boiled peanuts that looked suspiciously like frog eggs
- Radio hell: Scanned stations finding only static, Tejano, and sermon about end times
MISSOURI MAYHEM
Crossed Mississippi River into Memphis as rain started slapping my windshield sideways. Thought I saw Elvis’s ghost near Graceland but it was just a wet dude in jumpsuit. Pushed through to Tennessee while chewing caffeine gum like my life depended on it. Saw Nashville skyline around sunset feeling like I’d aged three years.
Pulled into my cousin’s driveway smelling like stale fries and regret. Unpacked my wrinkled shirts knowing two things:
- Never trust Arkansas rest stops
- Always pack extra underwear
Whole dang trip took 14 hours with stops – truck still runs but smells faintly of boiled peanuts and bad decisions. Worth it? Ask me after my back stops hurting.
