I was pulled over in Panama, Oklahoma for going 38 in a 35 zone. With my long hair, scraggly beard, California plates and fairly psychadelic-looking Geo, I fit to a T their profile of a marijuana possessor. Seeing the fish on the rails, this officer asked if I was a Phish fan; those being the most-oft caught with marijuana in Panama.

So the doggie was fetched and a fruitless search ensued. I actually enjoyed the experience; the gentlemen were all very jovial and nice to me. Plus it was nice to get out of the car and stretch a bit.

I learned a bit about how they train drug dogs. He loves to play with the ball (it is his motivation) and he is trained to sit down when he smells any of a list of contraband drugs.

I felt bad for these guys with my car as filthy as it was.

Just before sunset I cruised through Hot Springs, Arkansas, where the welcome sign told me that this is the boyhood home of Bill Clinton. Overexposure turned this spectacular view into an unflattering photo from the mountain looming over downtown.

Driving through the southern Ozarks, in the Ouachita ranger.

And at last, my destination! Atlanta peeks above the trees.