Midway through South Carolina, and about two-thirds of the way to Atlanta, the traffic slowed to stop-and-go. A sign flashed informing us that all lanes were closed about 10 miles ahead, so we bailed. Using our phones and car GPS, we navigated west through Greenville, into the picturesque little town of Easley, and on to Liberty. Then it was south on SC 178, a two-lane road shimmering with the last heat of the day. We rolled past the Slabtown Masonic Lodge, some pretty horse farms, and a sundry other rural sights, including signs for moonshine and goat milk.
It was a pretty drive, sullied only by the several stars and bars archaically waving along the way. "Who even thinks that's a good idea?" asked Heidi, shaking her head. "And why?"
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