In coming from upstate New York to Des Moines, Iowa, I had literally one of the worst drives of my life. Over the course of about thirty hours, each event compounded upon the one previous to create the worst travel experience since the Florida Odyssey. Here is the course of events:
Thursday, July 16, 2009
7:15pm: I finally get back to Albany NY, from PRG in New Jersey. I had expected to get there about 5:30. No matter.
7:16pm: I get into my car and start driving from Crossgates Mall in Albany. The roads around Crossgates are labyrinthian.
7:16:30pm: Immediately upon entering the freeway, I get blocked by a semi, and get shunted onto the northway, instead of the thruway west like I wanted.
7:17-7:25pm: Numerous actions taken to remedy situation.
7:25pm: Get back on Northway, then thruway, going the right direction.
8:30pm: Get on STE, to the sun setting into the Alleghenies. Beautiful.
10:00pm: I decide that I will drive 100 more miles, or until midnight, whichever comes first. I am on the interstate, and there seems to be numerous places to stop for the night.
10:15pm: All traces of life vanish. There are no more exits, and the road is pitch dark. I find this to be kind of sketchy.
10:35pm: Still nothing. No lights, few other cars.
11:05pm: My gas needle is on E. I start looking for gas stations. There aren't any.
11:26pm: There is a sign for a gas station off exit 29. I follow the signs into one of the most depressing small towns I have ever encountered. The gas station is closed. New York has a law that gas pumps must be shut off after the store closes. I curse everything that is good and holy.
11:28pm: I get back on the expressway. My gas needle is now below E. I proceed to get nervous.
11:46pm: After two fruitless exits, I find a gas station that is open. I fill my 11 gallon gas tank with 10.6 gallons of gas. Close call.
11:47pm: I get back on the interstate and begin searching for a hotel in earnest. Predictably, there are none.
Friday, July 17, 2009
12:13am: I see a sign for a Hampton Inn. There is a god.
12:15am: Hampton Inn is full. There is a god and he hates me. The desk clerk at the Hampton tells me that there is one room available at the Country Inn across town. He tells me to go fast because it is the last room available in at least 50 miles.
12:16am: I drive to the Country Inn like I'm black and the LAPD is chasing me.
12:24am: I get to the Country Inn. The room is still available. I get charged a small mortgage. Like literally, I paid less for a hotel room in Midtown Manhattan than for this Country Inn in bumblefuck NY. Predictably, I am not pleased.
12:16am: I shower off a day's worth of New Jersey grime, and then pass out.
7:45am: I wake up and raid the continental breakfast. By god I am going to get my money's worth out of this hotel.
8:03am: two bagles, a muffin, an apple, a bowl of cereal, and three cups of coffee later, I am ready to hit the road.
9:15am: I am already in Pennsylvania. I see a billboard advertising “Fireworks, Karate Supplies, Swords and Knives.” Perhaps my fates have turned.
10:23am: I cross the border into Ohio. I am all that is man. I stop at a rest stop for a celebratory Coca Cola and a tank of gas.
11:42am: I realize that I don't have my cell phone. I proceed to tear my car apart, almost driving off the road in the process.
11:44am: No cell phone. I realize that I left it on top of my car at the rest stop. It is now somewhere in the middle of I-90. About 100 miles behind me. In the pouring rain. God hates me, there is now no doubt.
12:10pm: I spend a dollar per minute to call my dad on a pay phone and let him know that my phone is toast. The only people who use payphones are homeless. I feel homeless.
12:16pm: I get back on the interstate. Only 500 miles to go.
3:24pm: Traffic backs up on the 80/90 in Indiana.
3:26pm: This is by far the worst traffic jam I have ever been in. Please note that I cut my teeth driving in Chicago and Orange County, CA.
3:28pm: I turn off my car and get out. On the side of the freeway.
3:44pm: Traffic starts to move again. I leisurely get back in my car and start driving. For 20 feet. And then stop and turn off my car again.
3:46pm: Two state police cars drive past me on the shoulder of the road. I am excited because I think they are going to divert traffic.
3:47pm: I notice that the police are not diverting traffic at all, but are instead giving tickets to people who are using the turnarounds to avoid the traffic jam. This is why people hate the police.
4:18pm: Traffic finally subsides. I have spent an hour going 2 ¾ miles. The reason for the traffic: one lane closed for 150 feet so construction workers could pick up road cones.
4:18:05: I contemplate what I might have done to piss off karma.
4:18:07: after some contemplation, I realize that I am probably pretty lucky that karma let me off this easily.
4:45pm: Because of the hour spent going nowhere in Indiana, I have hit full on Friday afternoon Chicago rush hour traffic (note the time change from EDT to CDT – I didn't actually make it from eastern Indiana to Chicago in under half an hour).
5:35pm: After spending almost an hour fighting assholes on the East-West Tollway, I am out of traffic and almost to Joliet. And I feel strangely at home.
6:10pm: Easy sailing through Illinois. Midwest expressways are ugly. I miss the Alleghenies.
6:53pm: Almost to Iowa. Score.
6:54pm: Construction on I-80. The interstate is down to one lane for 10 miles. So close, and yet, so far.
7:13pm: I finally make it into Iowa. 197 miles to Des Moines.
9:44pm: Arrive Des Moines. It is dark, cloudy, and cold.
10:15pm: I eat Jimmy Johns, and fall into a deep, comatose sleep.
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