No more country roads.  It’s time to hit the interstate.  We head down I-95 south towards Baltimore.  Sadly, no Main Street in Baltimore.   At this point, not quite sure where we’re going besides another Main Street.

Getting a little punchy.  We need a coffee shop.

We pull of I-95 in Mt. Airy Maryland to go to a drive-thru Starbucks.  The girl in the window notices that we have all of our shit in the car.  “We’re traveling 8 thousand miles across the country.”  “Woah, that is so cool.  You know we have a Main Street here in Mt. Airey.  Just go out here, take a right and then a left and you’ll be on it.”

Why not?  We drive to Main Street—Mt. Airy, MD

Bank of America,
Food Lion
Mt. Airy Animal Hospital
Verizon

Main Street here seems suburban at first—a big box hoedown, but then we head out a ways into the residential part and there are small houses.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see an old lady sitting on the porch with her dog.

Betty Jones sits on her porch with her dog Babe on Main Street in Mt. Airy, Maryland.

“Hey!  Let’s go talk to her.”

We turn the car around and park across the street.  I wonder what she thinks of us?

It seemed a little intrusive to go up and just talk to a lady at her house.  Never mind that though.  Before Jesse and I walk up, she’s already waving.

“Hello!  I’m Betty!” She laughs as she talks.

We tell her what we’re doing.

“Well that sounds like fun. “

She tells us that her son, Jay, moved her up here after her husband died.

“What are you doing out here?”

Betty Jones and her dog Babe in Mt. Airy, Maryland.

“I like to sit out on the porch everyday and just watch and wave at people.  There’s a lot of cars, a lot of bikers. One time a carload of teenagers drove by and yelled out, ‘Hi Grandma!’”

She laughs.  Betty Jones talks and laughs at the same time.  “Careful with Babe.  She’ll kiss you to death.”  We laugh.  “I thought that you were stopping to come and look at the pretty flowers my son gave to me.  Aren’t they pretty?  He gave them to me for Mother’s Day. He’s in the basement working on the house.”

Her son walks around the side of the house and says hello.  How’s it going?  Just working on getting some gum out of the dryer. It was a success.  More laughing. “You should drive down Main Street.  About 20 percent of it was burned down a few years ago in a fire.  It’s getting rebuilt now.” Will do.  We shake hands good-bye, although what I really want to do is give Betty a hug.  I give Babe a last pet and head back to the car.

We honk to Betty and wave as we drive away.  Her son has pulled up a chair and is sitting on the porch with his mother, watching the cars go by on Main Street.

“Bye Grandma!”