I pushed through Kentucky and down into Tennessee, finding a hotel outside of Knoxville. The main reason for the hotel stay was to catch Game 3 of the NBA finals — worth it, though I wish the Celtics would have held on.
Tennessee is known for its hospitality, the very friendly, overly chatty hotel clerk told me. His southern drawl mixed with his openly-gay flamboyance made for interesting conversation, though. I learned Tennessee has the same meth problem Oregon had ten years ago. Also, when two public school teachers joined our conversation, I also found out the state no longer teaches its students how to write in cursive. That seems like a pretty significant hole to leave in education.
Overall, the entire population has been nice, friendly, willing to chat and instantly open to talk about deeper topics, though the insane heat is still the first thing everyone talks about. Also, I haven't seen a mullet yet.
I like Tennessee, and if all goes as planned, I'll see the whole state, with stops in Nashville and Memphis on the radar. Graceland, perhaps.