We usually have better luck when we stick to the lists, but sometimes it's the unplanned stops that end up being junk gold mines. This brings to mind one trip in particular, which shall always be known as That Time We Almost Went to Georgia.
The Blackbird girls are infamous for being slow travelers. What should be a three hour drive becomes an eleven hour event, because we are basically children with bank accounts. We stop. Often. An hour on the road makes us squirmy, and two hours becomes Are We There Yet? The bright side of this is that neither of us is particularly worried about checking into a hotel at midnight, as long as we got good junk along the way.
We decided to go to Georgia for two nights. We made our lists, threw in our bags, and hit the road. An hour later, because we were already itching for a fix, we had to make a quick thrift store stop to stretch our legs. It was an auspicious beginning. Within the first five minutes, I found the love of my life (one of many, I admit):