In which Sid and Doris visit Thomas Jefferson’s house at Poplar Forest, Mr Giant starts to make a new noise and they all sit out an enormous downpour.
On the way back from breakfast Sid presses his pointy nose against a grubby window, sensing something interesting. The eye makes out car-like shapes but Doris’s phone can make out all this. A notice says it is not open to the public so this is what we can show you. 
At Poplar Forest we are just in time for the first tour of the day, about a dozen of us. For the non-American reader: do not confuse Thomas Jefferson, third PotUS, with Jefferson Davies, the President of the Confederacy at Richmond 60 years later. I was sure you wouldn’t, although it does make commemorative street names very economical.
Jefferson designed this octagonal house himself in 1806 as a retreat from Monticello as he was coming to the end of his second term. It was in the middle of his 6,000 acre farm and far enough away from Washington to get some peace. It is not a big place so he could not have many visitors and could get on with reading and farming. It fell into disrepair and since 1984 local citizens have gradually brought the house back to the state TJ would recognise. 
In fact, exactly the state he would recognise as some rooms are left only partially finished to give inisights into the construction techniques. See www.poplarforest.org as Sid’s typing is quite slow.
Sid and Doris pause for more fuel and chat with the Sherrif.
We try one of the Interstates and are getting on with the trucks OK when Mr Giant starts to make a new tapetty noise. Doris navigates us to Motor Mile and a multi franchise car service business. Pulling up by the Ford shop: Well, you certainly got mah attention. We get directions to the workshop, but the noise has stopped. Later we add oil and better fuel and stop asking him to mix it with the big boys on the interstates and he is pulling like a little freight train again.
We take to the much more suitable old main road with Doris at the wheel (not helm). At Smyth Valley a variety of cliches rain down on us, the heavens open, biblical amounts of water fall, cats and dogs, it is like being under Niagara Falls. We pull off into a Walmart car park where no one is getting out. It is tempting to say we saw the last unicorn, but we have done rain metaphors now. Instead we show the water running into the footwell [you may need to click on the video to play it – D].
Once it is only raining Doris sets out for Bristol past a lot of very small houses.
GDP per head in the US is about $70,000 but not right around here. Even so the GDP per head for Tennessee is ahead of the UK, just not here in Appalachia. Doris takes many pictures of the houses and yards around here through the side window.
Though not able to see the cars this morning there is joy in the afternoon and much waving when we meet this Triumph TR3, winner of Conveyance of the Day Award. Many more were sold here than in the UK during the post WW2 ‘export or die’ period as the UK repaid the US loans (all done by 2006).
And so to Bristol, where tomorrow we will find the Birth of Country Music Museum. Cue banjo and yee haw noises….