Get out of town day

Being in the car for upwards of twelve hours by yourself requires finding ways to stay amused. Here was how yesterday went on day one of vacation.

7:07 a.m. Depart. All green lights to the interstate. That's a good omen. The forecast for Ohio is rain, but I'm guessing I'll beat a path out of the state before the showers come.

8:17 a.m. Pass exit for Phillipsburg, otherwise known as my hometown. It seems like I got here in record time, but this is the first time I've driven this direction since I moved. Shaving fifteen minutes off the time shouldn't make a big difference, but wow, I'm surprised how fast I got here.

8:37 a.m. Cross the border into Indiana. The welcome sign identifies the state as Lincoln's boyhood home. That's all you have to hang your hat on? Somebody's trying to steal Illinois' thunder.

9:31 a.m. Reach the Indianapolis outerbelt. I swear they're never going to get the construction on I-70 finished.

10:48 a.m. Cross the border into Illinois. Having changed timezones I've gained a "free" hour.

10:17 a.m. 300 miles down! I've been averaging 71 miles an hour, so I'm making good time.

11:06 a.m. Seeing as I've been on the road for five hours straight, it's time to stop. The night before I searched to see if Sonic might be on my way. I knew one was nearby, and as it turns out, it's at the exit where I needed to get off. Hello Vandalia, Illinois. I get a #1 combo (single burger, onion rings substituted for fries, and a cherry Dr. Pepper). I'm not passionate about their food--the burger was merely OK--but I like the concept and their drink options. The onion rings were quite hot and delicious, although in my state of hunger, I probably ate too quickly and felt a little ill. I slowed down, rebounded, and decided to get a Sonic Blast for the road.

With my tank refilled, it was time to do the same for the car. Gas was $2.77 a gallon, a staggering increase to the $2.52 I had paid at home, but I heard that Ohio's prices were currently the lowest in the nation. (They've dropped significantly in the last two weeks.) I drove 360 miles on this tank and averaged 37 miles per gallon. Nice.

11:47 a.m. Back on the road.

12:48 p.m. I can see the famous arch and downtown St. Louis from the interstate. It's far away but plainly visible. I tried taking pictures while driving--admittedly not the smartest idea in the world. You can spot it if you look in the left side of this photo.

12:57 p.m. Cross the Mississippi River.

2:30 p.m. I've hit a wall. Not literally but mentally. I pull over at a rest stop to take a break. I see a guy who also had been at Sonic and the gas station almost three hours ago. He was wearing a t-shirt with FBI printed over the left breast. If I were paranoid, I would think I was under surveillance. There's nothing worthy of concocting conspiracy theories, though. I get a look at the back of the shirt, which explains that the initials stand for Federal Bureau of Intoxication. The Federal Body Inspectors version must have been sold out.

2:46 p.m. Return to the highway. How many more hours of this do I have left?

4:31 p.m. I'm not making nearly as good mileage on this tank of gas. My car doesn't like going up hills, so it's not operating at maximum efficiency. I'm beginning to wonder if I will have enough fuel to reach an exit. One sign listed the temperature as 101 degrees, so getting stuck on the side of the interstate would not be a good thing. The exits are fewer and farther between than I'm used to in Ohio. With the needle pointing at empty, this could be interesting.

4:40 p.m. Stop for gas. I averaged about 32 miles per gallon on this tank. Decent.

4:49 p.m. On the road again. I've listened to a couple albums on the iPod, but for the most part it's been sports talk radio for as long as I can stand it, an NPR game show I've never heard, and part of the Cardinals-Nationals baseball game. I decide to give the Knit Picks podcasts a listen to break up the monotony. These will be the soundtrack for the rest of the drive. That barking dog at the end of each episode surprises me enough that it's a miracle I don't veer off the road.

5:28 p.m. I spy a dead armadillo on the side of the road. I don't see that every day.

6:01 p.m. Cross the border into Arkansas. It's looking a lot greener down here than it does up north. The view for the last half hour has been very nice and made better by going through the area at the golden hour.

6:30 p.m. Stop at a gas station to take a look at the directions Jenn gave me to her place. The front door has a sign that says, "Shirt, shoes, and proper attire must be worn at all times." I've teased my Arkansas pals about the backward perception of the south--Donna fired back that I should make sure to get my ringworm vaccination before coming--and this plays right into that stereotype. The only thing that could have improved this scene is if there was an old man chewing tobacco sitting in a rocking chair outside with a shotgun and a hound dog. Just kidding ladies! :)

6:45 p.m. Arrival!

Jenn and her boyfriend then took me to a weekly potluck dinner at a friend's home. I brought my blackberry pie, which probably was nice and warm from sitting on the back seat for those hundreds of miles. For all of the sitting I did on the drive, it was good to melt into the couch and talk with her friends. I'm in good hands and ready to enjoy the next few days.