When I was very young, we visited Cherokee two times. It was a magical town, holding much of Native American history and lore. Both times I wanted the red moccasins, really wanted them, but we could never afford them. Maybe that's the cause of my thing for red shoes today, who knows. I am enjoying the road up to Cherokee, but also I become certain I have come here almost solely to buy those red moccasins. Andrea should be cheering by now, she is always on my case about scarcity thinking. Cherokee has changed mightily, and well it should, I was last here 55 or 60 years ago. Harrah's has a huge casino here. I struggle to find any trace of authenticity among the t-shirts and made in China souvenirs. I buy the red moccasins. The inner little girl is elated. Mission accomplished.

I head for Tampa, friends, Florida and home, but I am too tired to make much progress. I stop for the night north of Columbus, GA.