I am a good road-tripper. My family and I have made the 13 ½
hour trip from Northern Alabama to the Philadelphia suburbs twice a year, every
year, from the time I was 2-22. So what I mean is, I’m very good at finding the
most efficient way to get from point A to point B when point A and point B
happen to be quite far apart, with minimal complaining or fear along the way. I
have less practice in the finer art of meandering across the picturesque
countryside admiring quaint towns and buying organic corn from road stands. That
just isn’t my particular road-trip skill – I am fast.
So when faced with the decision to drive (thank you
Sequestration) the now only 10 ½ hours to see my parents, I was unfazed. I’ve
made the trip a few times before shortly after I first moved here and I was
sure it would be fine. As the day moved closer forecasts of snow and storms
began circulating the news but I paid them no mind. I would be leaving in the
middle of the day. During the warmest
part of the day. Any measly accumulation that managed to escape the clouds
during the heat of the afternoon in March in Virginia surly wouldn’t stick. It certainly wouldn’t stick to the highway.
Some random back roads maybe, but nothing that would affect me. In fact the
more people asked or worried for me about the potential snowfall the more
confident I became. By the time I left I was bordering on a cocky, arrogant
fool. When the snowfall began an hour or
two into my trip I laughed at all those who had wished me luck or given me
hasty advice. And then it happened. Suddenly the snow picked up and I was
having a hard time seeing. My windshield wipers, I discovered, were not the
best. I haven’t had the car for that long and honestly, living in Northern VA
didn’t give me many opportunities to try them out while driving through
excessive snowfall. I wasn’t panicking though, I kept behind other cars who
would break some of the gusts of flakes and figured it would be over soon. I
was moving swiftly south. Unfortunately, it would get much worse before it got
better. Eventually the left lane of the highway was so covered in snow it was
not useable and the right lane had two small tracks carved in the snow for each
tire tread. Now I was getting nervous. I
checked and the weather report made it seem like once I got to Wytheville it
would all be over. Only another 2 hours. I could make it till then.
It was at about this time I realized I had to go to the
bathroom, but I knew getting off the interstate mostly likely meant not getting
back on. If the highway looked this bad, the smaller roads had to be impassable
and an unexpected overnight in a central Virginia motel was not on my agenda.
Finally the weather lighted up and I found a gas station. I felt like a toddler
doing the potty dance while I waited for my gas tank to fill up. It was not one
of my prouder moments.
Having the worst of the trip behind me I settled into
listening to Tina Fey’s Bossypants.
Later, while on the phone with my friend from college I realized I would again
be needing two hands and all of my faculties to stay on the road as the rain
started increasing in Tennessee. Hanging up rather reluctantly I assumed I’d be
able to call her back shortly. The rain picked up and the clouds got darker.
Then the wind started. Being from tornado alley I’m generally pretty good with
the threat of tornadoes. Go to the basement stay away from windows and pray
that God has mercy on you. It’s a pretty easy equation. However, my roommates
can tell you that nothing frightens me more than the possibility of a tornado
while I’m driving on the highway. Tons
of tornado training has taught me that the worst (and I mean absolute worst)
place to be during a tornado is in your car. Especially in your car, high up in
the air on an over pass. So deciding that it would be better to check what was
going on to easy any further anxiety, navigating my tiny Toyota through the
downpour was already taking it’s toll, I called my brother who promptly looked
up the weather report for some city in Tennessee I will never remember and
said, “No tornado warning, only a wind advisory.” Great! One less thing to
worry about. Now unfortunately, what they don’t tell you when you buy the tiny
Toyota is that although your car payments are next to nothing you’ll feel like
a canoe at sea during a hurricane if you ever have to drive it through any
amount of wind. I swear every last gust pulled my tiny car one way or another.
I’ve never been so glad I opted not to buy the smart car!
Finally we’re in the home stretch, the snow is gone; the
rain has stopped; only the wind remained. But at this late hour I’m finally
losing it. At 2 hours out I begin to worry that once I get home I won’t be able
to go to sleep cause I’ll be so wound up. At 1 hour out I realized I was now
worried I would fall asleep before I got there.
Now I have a friend who runs ultramarathons (these crazy races where
people run for 24 hours and whatnot) and she describes getting delirious and
seeing things during some of the final hours of racing. How embarrassing to
realize that after 12 hours of not running, no sitting in a car, I too am
hallucinating. Suddenly the light from the reflectors join together so the road
looks as if it makes a 90 degree turn in only 10 feet. Or the trees are
situated just far enough away that when they sway in the breeze it is clear a
family is sauntering across the highway and you are about to hit them. Some people run for 24 hours; I can’t sit in
a car for more than 10. Some things in life just aren’t fair.
Once it was all said and done, I got home to my parents
safely and exhausted enough to flop into bed. And since I didn’t die I think
the whole thing makes for quite an adventure. Special thanks to Tina Fey for
writing and reading aloud her book Bossypants
and The Book of Mormon sound track
for keeping me awake and laughing in those final hours.
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