Miles: 468
State Count: 2
Giant Cross Sightings: 7
Sleep fled my body as a strange light source slowly crept into the room. I found myself sprawled diagonally across a bed that was not my own, and wondered briefly how I could own my own king sized bed before the events of prior days hit me: NO. Just no. I will not own more furniture. Or things.*
Rewind.
Over two months ago, my rent-a-parents in Virginia, Len and Liz, suggested that instead of shipping their second car back to California, they'd hire someone to drive it back with them. It definitely took a second and a direct "We want you to come with us" before it hit me: ROAD TRIP!
A lifelong trip dream of mine has always been to do a cross country road trip across, well, any country. To do it in a fine example of German engineering, and go with people who are well versed in journey, and to not worry about what couch I'll be crashing on at night? Even better. In exchange for my driving skills (go ahead, insert Asian female driving joke here, I'm not laughing because I'll be too busy having adventures) I'll get three squares and a bed. Oh, and I'll get to see this freakin' country!!
I will be traveling with two other humans and their leader, a nine-year-old Sheltie, caravaning with a truck with an attached trailer, no set schedule, prebooked rooms or activities. It will be an extreme exercise in letting go of control and expectations. Which if you know me, it's not easy.
My mantra: Early is on time, on time is late.
Well, let me just say if I was planning this trip, I'd have pulled all my hair out by now. Our proposed leave date was Friday December 22nd, before noon. Our actual leave date, Monday, December 25th, 5 pm, shortly after sunset.
Days of never ending packing made me wish Santa brought me abs and a solid core for Christmas, but alas my companions are Jewish and I don't celebrate. So we had Chinese food instead. No movie.
The packing days, and then all the extra packing days, did give me a few great insights:
- Thank goodness my parents don't have any antiques for us to inherit.
- I will be selling all my furniture (save books and chocolate molds) before I move out of DC whenever that may be.
- Reputable professional movers and packers earn every cent, and if I ever have enough stuff and money to move me, damnit, I'm paying for it.
- Twine can give you splinters.
- Advil is my friend, but I already knew that one.
So, we left Great Falls in a rush. To put it bluntly, we rushed off the corner house on Jackson Lane four days after our proposed leave date, chasing the last pinks of sunshine so fast that normal triple check procedures may have been overlooked.
Five minutes into the drive, three intersections away from what used to be called home, on a two lane, winding, tree covered, McMansion-lined lane with no streetlights, the entire back door of the trailer dropped down, and rolls of paper towels and blue tarp flew out past my windshield.
Paralyzed with disbelief, my dad's warning of "don't drive alone on this trip" rang prophetically true.
I pulled into the next McMansion driveway as Len stumbled out of the car, phone to ear, calling Liz to tell her to stop. I hopped out and ran back down the road, picking up a rubber bucket filled with paper towels, extra furniture pads, and a few tarps; items that didn't have a boxed home because after a month of packing, we just wanted to get the f**k out of there.
I shoved them in the backseat, best as I could, between the spaces of the two antique, handmade chairs, praying there wasn't much more to grab along the dark road. I got back in the car, flashers still on, and crept slowly up the road to a bewildered Len, his arms full of random things that included hastily wrapped light bulbs, he got in and we continued to Liz who we found stopped in the road.
Overall, we only stopped traffic for less than 10 minutes. The line of headlights flash festively for more than a quarter mile behind me, with the less than pleased drivers making up a Christmas carol with their horns. Well, merry fucking Christmas to you too; I'm packing here!!!
Liz and Len calmly got the door secured lifted up off the ground where it had dragged behind the truck for over almost a mile. Securely locked, and all of us loaded back in our vehicles, we had a quiet (if slightly shell shocked) ride down the eponymous road trip highway Route 66 until cutting down south to I-81. A few Bluetooth phone conferences confirmed a desire to push for Asheville that evening, setting our arrival for 1 am ish.
Up until an hour into the trip, we hadn't even considered staying overnight in North Carolina! Seriously, the spontaneity! But it was easy for me to compartmentalize and focus on driving a very expensive car that wasn't mine.
Weary souls crashed soundly to sleep not too long after checking to the Country Inn and Suites around 2 am.
A morning of chocolate, beer, and barbecue awaited us, but as I started the post, while munching on unlimited paper-thin, complimentary hotel bacon, I was just happy we were finally on the road.
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| My ride. Not too shabby. Heated seats, baby. |
*Well, chocolate molds, yes, but no more things.
