It’s never a dull 22-hour drive for us back and forth to Southwest Florida but this year’s back home to Indiana was a doozy. One bad decision was taking U.S. 75 home through Georgia instead on our usual U.S. 65 through Alabama to visit Dick’s sister.
Our plan was to stop in Macon on the first night preferably near some unquestionable chain restaurant for a late dinner and a glass of wine or beer. Our bodies were stiff from sitting so long and we sighed in relief when we let our legs dangle from the barstools at an Outback. Zack the bartender gave me a nice pour of pinot and Dick sipped on a Stella.