Road Trip Part II

 

We hit that road ten days ago after ten hours of last minute cleaning and packing and supervising the movers. After a final walk-through of the house we placed the keys to the left of the kitchen sink per the real estate lady’s instructions, then locked the door behind us. The Pilot was jam packed with the four of us, vacation bags of a week’s worth of clothing for each, the dog and his crate, his accessories (food, bowls, leash, blankets), a bag of snacks and bottled water, and books for the trip. We pulled away at 4:45 pm.

I was behind the wheel and wanted to get a good four hours in for the night. We’d book a dog-friendly hotel on the road. Originally I hoped to make central Virginia by 9, but that was not to be the case. First of all, I had counted on leaving no later than 3 pm and driving five hours until 8. Second, Jersey traffic. Third, not an hour into the drive, our trusty Pilot, nine years old with 130,000 miles, suddenly began growling like a Harley Davidson every time I hit the gas. After running through a bunch of worst case scenarios, I realized it had to be the muffler. We just had it in to the shop three days prior for a full on-the-lift review, and it was deemed travel worthy after an old change and tire rotation.

So I took it easy from the Pennsylvania border on. We hit an Arby’s for dinner, reconciled to casting aside our Keto diets for the three day road trip, steeling our stomachs for burgers and chicken sandwiches and Starbuck’s. After something like 180 miles we found a pair of nice adjacent rooms at a La Quinta for a steal in York, PA. We unloaded, walked the dog, and the girls felt all amazed and grown up exploring their very own room. Which means after showers they knocked on our door and asked to hang out. We watched a pair of Office reruns then, exhausted, went to bed.

Wednesday we rose early, had the complimentary breakfast, repacked the Pilot, did the Starbuck’s drive thru, and, with the wife behind the wheel, motored back on the highway by 8:30. We’d drive for 11 hours making stops every 3-4 hours for the dog to walk and us to stretch our legs. Lunch was at a McDonald’s (blech), and I took over for the afternoon / evening shift. During the morning I alternated between reading Stalingrad by Antony Beevor and staring at the absolutely gorgeous landscape and townscapes of the surrounding Gettysburg area. Dinner was more greasy burgers. We stopped around 7:30 at another bargain hotel, Comfort Suites, where again we had two adjacent rooms. Overall we did 680 miles and traveled southwest through Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia, and Tennessee.

Thursday was a similar routine with similar results, with the wife taking the morning shift and me reading in the passenger seat. She got us to the Arkansas border, where we stopped for Subway sandwiches, a welcome change in our fast food diets. After I took over she worked the phones (her specialty) and ordered gift baskets for our realtors and lawyer, and worked on wiring the funds from our old house to the sellers’ bank in Texas, all on that little rectangular device held in her hand.

One thing that fascinated me on the trip was, I guess, a result of my first foray off the coast. I was in the Bible Belt, I guess. I spotted zero rainbow flags, banners, stickers, or yard signs. Skirting the outer edge of Memphis I saw a rainbow towel hanging from a balcony, but that may not have been a statement. What I did see were four – four! – fifty-foot crosses adjacent to various churches of various denominations, and probably drove past four dozen more churches sans the giant monuments. I also counted five – five! – trucks with Bible verses splashed on the sides, back, or both, and these were not the trucks of religious organizations, but ordinary average commercial vehicles. A whole new world, as they say.

At the tail end of Arkansas we had to gas up, and while the ladies were inside using the station facilities a group of these guys

 

 

harassed me at the pump. Seriously. They were aggressively on the prowl for dropped French fries and any trash poking out of the nearby barrels.

We crossed the border into Texas at 5:45 (we were delighted to have gained an hour of time and daylight a state back) and drove for another 90 minutes, stopping at a Marriott just on the city limits of Dallas. Boy was our first sight of Dallas incredible: the sun setting on Lake Roy Hubbard among all the boats and yachts and jet skis flirting and partying on the ocean-like waves. We drove over the lake on a high bridge, then detoured to the George W. Bush parkway and found our hotel in Plano. Another wonderful pair of rooms for a neat price! The friendly desk clerk helped us Door Dash some Chilis, which we ate in leisure in our suites. The girls serenaded us with an a cappella Beatles medley, then went back to their room. I took a hot bath and read some more Stalingrad and when I got out, found the wife asleep. I put the dog in his crate and soon followed her. Tomorrow would be quite the busy day.