LONE VISITOR
22 Hours
Photo from Wix
One of the longest drives I have made in a single sitting was 22 hours and a total of 1,200 miles. By myself.
After spending the day in beautiful Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia, I wanted to get home. It was the end of a month-long trip around the New England and the Mid-Atlantic states.
I had reservations that night in Harper’s Ferry, and even checked in, but decided to take off around 6 p.m. I was ready and motivated to get going.
Driving out of the town, I crossed three state borders within minutes: West Virginia, Virginia, and Maryland. Harper’s Ferry is located at the junction and border of all these state borders as well as where the Shenandoah and Potomac Rivers meet.
The scenic gorges and forested hills and mountains of western Maryland and southwestern Pennsylvania during sunset was awe-inspiring, and I told my mind to take it all in, never to forget. Going through the mountain passes made me think of the thousands, millions of pioneer settlers who came before me, seeking a new home in the West.
On my drive, I saw the sun set, the moon rise, the sun rise, and the moon set.
It was expensive to get home. I spent approximately $100 USD on toll roads. It was worth it, though. If I did not take the toll roads, my driving time would have been doubled.
I drove through the Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, area in the late evening, and stopped at an open gas station near Cleveland, Ohio, around midnight.
There, I bought a massive coffee. The man behind the counter glanced at it inquisitively.
“I hope your day ends soon?” he questioned.
“Oh…my day is just beginning,” I said meekly.
I was wide awake up until this point, but then the early morning hours of the next day turned difficult.
I do not remember much of the drive from Cleveland, Ohio, to Gary, Indiana. I was in that tired state of mind, zoning.
Driving straight and need to be reminded to stay awake. Vehicles disappeared from the roadway and I soon became the lonely traveler.
I reached the outskirts of Chicago, Illinois, at 4 a.m.
That is when I met Elvis. One of the toll booth operators had a lot of fun with his job. I pulled up to the toll booth and saw a man with black hair slicked back, dressed in a glittery white jumpsuit, and sunglasses. He was moving and grooving with an Elvis song playing in his tiny station, surrounded by pictures of Elvis hanging on the walls. He did not say a word to me or even look at me. I gave him the toll money, smiled, and drove off.
Another toll booth operator, a young black woman with a bright red Chicago Bulls hat, gave me a puzzled look as I stopped to pay my toll. The kind of look that says, “What the heck are you doing driving at this hour?”
This was hard for me to believe, but I was the only vehicle passing through Chicago at that hour. I had the entire city to myself. No traffic.
However, there was some interesting activity occurring.
Looking in my rearview mirror, I saw numerous headlights approaching fast.
The souped-up cars with lift kits, chrome spinners, and Puerto Rican flags flying from the tops, squealed by as they continued on their early morning race through Chicago. They revved their engines as they went by and looked at me as if I interrupted them, on their territory, or making sure I was not a law enforcement officer.
My last toll booth in Illinois was operated by an elderly white woman. I often think of her. Why is she at a toll booth at 5 a.m. in the morning? Is she naturally awake? Cannot sleep? Is she retired? Or more likely…can she not retire? Bad economy? Did she lose her retirement? Does she need the extra income? Why? Her face had a painful look. She had been through a lot in her life. Maybe she had a good life up until retirement age.
Dawn approached as I entered Wisconsin, and I stopped to eat a quick breakfast at a rest area.
The slowest part of the drive was across Minnesota, as it was the only part of my journey not traveled on an interstate highway.
The last part of my journey was taken through an area that just experienced a rather large tornado. Twisted and mangled trees, barns, houses, fences, silos, and other structures littered the area.
I finally arrived home in the afternoon, with the help of Red Bull.
Arriving home, I finally reflected on myself. I was dirty, my skin had that slimy feeling from not taking a shower, my beard had grown out, and I needed to change clothes.