The Sweatiest Road Trip Ever - Days 12, 13, 14, Whatever

Days 12 &13 -

And now, a brief photo collage of our last two days on the road. Driving 13+ hours each day.

Prepare for blast-off!

9:04 a.m.

Let's do this!

Only 23 hours  and 9 minutes to go!

Yeeee-HAW!

Welcome to Alabama.

Blasting along the Hank Williams Memorial Highway.

And considering eternity.

I suggested entering Squanket in a drag race.

But that is the actual dragway and it didn't seem... I don't know... safe?

We stopped at Love's for some gas.

And found The World's Largest Selection of Rollable Meat-Like Products!

I don't know what they have. Kerri refused to stop.

And then we were in Georgia!

And Tennessee, where I was adamant that we needed to get some official BBQ.

Or, at least visit one of the dozens of "World's Largest Fireworks Store"s that we passed on this trip.

Kerri opted for Archer's BBQ in Knoxville, and it was a wise choice. This is called the BBQ Sundae. It is a bowl of heaven.

And then, northward through the driving rain,

and roaring thunder,

and biblical-level lightning.

A brief stop at a rest area where we were stalked by...

a black cat, skulking through the parking lot.

And when I turned away, there was another one, hiding behind the garbage can.
Or was it the same one...?

We finally called it a night in Wyethville, VA, the same town we had stayed in on our drive down.
And I am now, forever plagued by the idea that I want to get Professional toilet paper for home use.

In the van the next morning at 9:10. 

And if we play our cards right, we can be home tonight!

What are YOUR lubrication needs?

If we lived here, we'd be home now.
But we don't, and we weren't.

There was a lot of stunt-hauling along the highway.

And, once again, I was denied a visit to the John Wayne Truck Stop and Chrome Shop. Curse you, Kerri!

Kerri also didn't let me party with them.

The ring of dirt, grime, grease, I don't even want to know, on this bathroom door was impressive.

As is the posted list of rules and regulations for using a Pennsylvania Rest Stop. Maybe they should add, "Wash your nasty hands before touching our nasty doors!"

We survived the doors of doom and I was, once again, allowed in the driver's seat. Here we go!

I can practically smell home!

This is the pond that gave Squanket her name.

And then, just like that... We were home.

Over 4,300 miles and over 80 hours of driving.

We got Tori to school safely.
We got back home safely.
We all survived.

And we're all still talking to each other.

Now, we're planning the next adventure...

The Sweatiest Road Trip Ever - Day 1. Sort Of.

Day 1. (Sort of.)

Our daughter,Tori, has decided to abandon the lovely, idyllic, temperate world of New Hampshire and spend the next 4 years or so sweating in the concrete jungle of Florida.

She's off to college and we, as her parents, are obligated to get her there even if it involves 80+ hours cramped in a hot rented minivan, blasting down the east coast of the U.S. (spoiler: It involves those things. And sweat. So much sweat. I mean, you would simply not believe how much sweat.)

The trip started a bit earlier than originally planned. The plan, as originally conceived, was for us to leave on Monday morning, bright and early. Alex had to work all day Sunday and, for some unexplained reason, he actually wonted to join us for this trip. It seems that sitting in a van for the equivalent of 6 months straight sounded appealing to him.

After some deliberation, we decided that it might make more sense to leave Sunday night after Alex got home from work. That way, we could be tired while we drove, plus our ride would be made more pleasant  by the delicious aroma of french fries that always clings to Alex after a shift as a waiter at a local restaurant.

We picked up the super-cool, image-enhancing maroon Dodge Grand Caravan (even reading the name ages you several decades) on Sunday afternoon while Alex was at work.

Sporty and stylish. Just like your Great Aunt Mildred.

We left a little room in the glove compartment for Alex's stuff so he could throw it in when he got home. 

After the van was packed and Alex got home, it was time to hit the road. Toasting a safe trip with a ceremonial nip of Oyzo would be illegal, as both of our children are under 21 years of age.

So this is only water.

And that is how you drink water.

And this is how water makes your face look.

Yup. Just like that. Water.

As I was driving, I declined the water, opting instead to enjoy life.

Tori bade a slightly damp farewell to her best friend, Sloane,

Awwww...

climbed into the van,

I promised Tori I would never share this picture. Please destroy your computer after viewing it so she doesn't find out.

and we hit the road.

Off to college.

Southward!

Day 19 - Home

Day 19
Richmond, IN - New Boston, NH
Miles Driven - 855.8
Total Time in Transit - 14h 35m
View from hotel - OUR YARD!


Last night was bad.
Not only was the Days Inn filthy and smelly and noisy, I spent the entire night sick with worry about my lost ipod.

I could have dropped it at the rest stop where we had leftover Mexican food. That was about a 5 hour drive from here.

I also could have dropped it at the gas station where we fueled up last night. That was a mere 4 hours away. In the wrong direction.

As worries tend to do, my worries had a party in my head, delightfully prancing about, multiplying, and extrapolating into all sorts of mind-boggling contingencies.

I didn't have a passcode on my ipod and it was connected to my email for the trip.
My itunes account was open and available on it.

And the pictures.

Thousands of pictures of our trip. Including my only pictures of bringing my only son to college.

I finally gave up on the idea of trying to sleep when the sun worked its way through the grimy curtains and set the mold spores in the room to twinkling like asthma-inducing fairy sparkles.

I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on a sweatshirt, and headed down to Towanda to tear it apart in a desperate last attempt at finding my ipod.

Yes. I found it.

It was tucked sideways and standing on end in a compartment in the dashboard. I had looked right at it and run my hand over it last night, but in the dark, I hadn't even noticed it.

I was so happy that the sound of the 6:13 train didn't even bother me.

Much.

I ran back into the room and Kerri looked at me blearily through the swirling cloud of mold spores.

"You found it, didn't you?" she asked.
I smiled, but stopped quickly because mold spores were getting stuck between my teeth.
I nodded. "Yup. Let's get the heck out of here and go home."

The parking lot. The tan bridge on the right is the train tracks that run right next to the motel.

The view from our room. Now, in the light, I can see other, possibly less filthy, hotels.
Dang.

Hey! That's our wedding anniversary!

I took a few pictures to help us remember our stay in Richmond.

Moldy shower curtain.

Moldy tub drain.

Moldy bathroom floor.

More moldy bathroom floor.

Obligatory dog, howling from the back of the pickup in the parking lot.

Hey, Days Inn - use us for your next commercial!

We hit the road and kept hitting the road.
We drove all day and well into the night, stopping only for gas and, mysteriously, ice cream.

Somewhere selfie!

We spent a lovely half hour or so in Pennsylvania.

Somewhere else selfie!

Storm Clouds of Doom™.

Ice cream in New York!

The trip odometer. Wait for it...

BOOM! 8,000 miles in 19 Days.
Actually, the final tally was 8,299.2 miles when we got home.

We eventually got home just after midnight.

Our chicken was comfortably roosted in the maple tree outside the kitchen.
The beds were made.
The bathroom was mold-free.

We had a very, very good night's sleep.

And when we woke up the next day, we got the text from Alex.

Time to start packing again.