Road Trip- Part One

Rachael and I left for Louisville early Saturday morning in the fully packed van; a van packed so tight I couldn't find room to slide Helaina into any of the non-existent gaps between the luggage and furniture. After a brief hiccup (the local coffee vendor wasn't open yet so we detoured through Northampton), we were off. Our goal was to make it to the south side of Columbus, Ohio by the end of the day without killing ourselves. I figured this to be about an eleven hour drive.

The first leg of the trip took us through New York state, out towards Buffalo, where we eventually veered left and followed the edge of Lake Erie. Traffic was heavy with cars apparently going to Niagara Falls and Canada. Signs above the highway announced wait times at various border crossings of anywhere from one to three hours. Luckily, we diverted from this crowd and headed south, briefly  through the vineyard covered hills of upper Pennsylvania and onto Ohio.

Ohio was filled with highway construction and farmland. Just about the entire first hour was spent riding on a torn up road surrounded by fields punctuated with billboards. There seemed to be a strange and growing mixture of liqueur warehouses and "adult" superstores being advertised in huge signs, scattered throughout the crops. I can only figure that it must get pretty boring out there and this offered what passes for recreation.

Even more strange was that while the landscape was filling with more and more of those signs, the radio filled with more and more stations playing sermons and christian music. It was as if there was a battle going on between two extremely opposing sides- and both sides seemed to be losing.

At one point, we passed a huge billboard standing between the edge of the highway and the end of a farm field. It declared in large, all capital letters: "HELL IS REAL". Just to get the point across (in case it was too subtle), the "H" was in red. At first glance, it seemed like it was a pretty bold statement, but as I drove on, it only raised questions. What was the point of this? Who put this up and how do they know this to be true? Was this a warning, or a cry for help? Is this a reference to this part of Ohio, to their marriage, or what? I'm still baffled.

As dinnertime approached, we were fried. We were about a mile away from the hotel, but first, we made a quick pit stop to a Radio Shack where Rachael picked up a new phone charger and then we bought some supposedly "Mexican" food to take to the hotel.

The hotel was everything I expected and less. It started with the receptionist, who was apparently more fried than we were, and it continued on to our lovely one and one half star accommodations . We had asked for a "no smoking" room and I guess in the strictest sense, that's what were got- seeing as how neither Rachael or I were smoking. The room, however, smelled of stale cigarette smoke- but I suppose it could have been from leaching through the wafer thin walls. I went to turn on the air conditioner, figuring a little circulation would help, and I suppose it would have, if  the air conditioner didn't smell like musty old socks.

Rachael and I attempted to eat what we could of our "Mexican" food before finally depositing it in the trash at the top of the stair landing. Later, we watched an old movie before giving up and trying to go to sleep in our beds that were thankfully free of bedbugs or hairs from previous guests.  During the night, I gave up and turned on the air conditioner in a vain attempt to drown out the noise of the steady stream of traffic coming from the highway mere yards from our window.

In the morning, we were off again. It would be about a three hour ride to Louisville from our hotel and time passed quickly, at least in comparison to the night before. Along the way, we made one more pit stop, just after entering Kentucky, at a highway restaurant/gas station/ small arms vendor. Rachael used the bathroom while I checked out the souvenirs- things like postcards and shot glasses and straw cowboy hats. I tried not to wince at the canned country music that blared in the background or make eye contact with anyone.

The rest of the ride to Louisville went smoothly and we found the apartment building without any problems. The landlord, a polite gentleman Rachael had been dealing with, was there to greet us and give us the ins and outs on moving in. The van emptied pretty quickly, partly owing to the fact that we weren't organizing anything after we brought it in. This was Rachael's territory and she would deal with it over the coming days and weeks. For now, it was enough to get it all inside.

The afternoon and evening was spent getting groceries and hunting in vain for a headboard that ultimately proved unnecessary. We got some dinner and toured a few streets in Louisville, particularly the area and building where Rachael will be spending most of the coming year. Before long, we headed back to her apartment, accompanied by heavy rain and lightning. I would be leaving in the morning.

The rest of the night was spent doing the kind of things you do when you are trying to keep your mind off of other things- that is to say, it was spent doing things of no consequence. I went to bed early while Rachael got caught up with her roommate.

Morning, as I expected, came too quickly. I got dressed and grabbed my bag and Rachael walked me downstairs to where the van was parked. We hugged and said our goodbyes. I got in the van and she opened the garage door for me. We said our last goodbyes and I love yous and I pulled out into the lingering rain as the garage door closed behind me.

Driving in the now empty van, I struggled to focus on the ride ahead of me instead of the crushing sense of loss that came to me in greater and greater waves. It was going to be another long ride.