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just_cydmore writing practice
We trudged our way to the car, Violet thrilled by the puddles and the rain and the general chaos caused by both. I instantly regretted my Crocs-and-socks choice, but Crocs without socks isn't much better. That said, 4 hours in stompy shoes is also not ideal. Oh, to have footwear choices!
Settled in the car, I was surprised when Google Maps told me I was only 3.5 hours from my Airbnb. I guess I misjudged the halfway point by quite a bit; next time, Charleston will be far enough for after work. All joy faded when Google Maps then told me to take US19 for 9 miles, rather than getting back on the Interstate we'd exited the night before. It was another two-lane, no-shoulder, twisty-turny affair, and I was having NO part of that again. As soon as I could, I pulled off and checked the map. Turns out we were headed to I-77, and this road would get me there. *deep breath* it's 20ish ore miles, but I can do this. Right? Right. US19 was mostly straight but hilly, and the locals weren't driving at homicidal speeds, so I kept pace with them at 10 over, feeling comfortable at that, but not so comfortable that the littles and the brain squirrels could interrupt me.
There was still snow in the mountains of S WV, and the mid-50s temps made it foggy, but not terribly so. More mist and clouds than anything, with just enough rain nd road spray to by annoying. I recognized some things (the Princeton exit) but the rest was new to me. I guess it's only my third trip through here in 9 months, so expecting to know every bump and twist and landmark is still la bit much to ask. I'm still amused that "welcome to Virginia" comes in the middle of a tunnel through a mountain. Everyone was tired from last night's shenanigans, apparently, or they would have been insufferable by this point. Dev and Violet pass up a chance to terrorize Angel while going through a tunnel? They're either OUT COLD or I left them behind. "Was that a __[tbd]______?" I asked a little too loudly, and got the expected reply out of Dev; OK, the gang's all here.
When traffic and weather allowed, I let my brain wander, often having to yank it back quickly when I came up too quickly on a slow moving semi, or the brain squirrels got out of hand. The basement stairwell on the back side of the church that summer ... that close, humid feeling of late summer, mixed with fear, as I tried desperately to get home long past when I should have been ... that upper-classman and his Shatner-staccato words and hot breath in my ear in the middle of art class, our teacher not 10 feet away.
"STOP!" I demand, startling myself back to the present and the littles to full consciousness. "Not here. Not now," came the words, firm. I glanced at the gas gauge, realizing I should fill up soon, and took the next truck stop exit. Angel gasped in horror when she realized we had exited the interstate onto state road 666 in VA. Dev ran with it, tormenting her all while I searched for a pump that worked ("#8 chip isn't working"), filled up, parked, and ran inside. I chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all as i approached the car, those two squabbling and violet watching, back and forth, like a judge at a tennis match. Dev tried to drag me into the thick of things as i texted family and settled in for he return to the road. "Nope, not gonna bite," I told them, giving them The Look. [Expand on The Look w/ or w/o mom references]
The next two hours passed mostly uneventfully, with rain and heavy fog, and more semis than I would have preferred. I was glad the dualy in front of me hit his flashers when things got bad; I followed suit, and rolled with the 45 MPH pace through fog too thick to see the FOG WARNING signs. I had to laugh at the absurdity of that, but declined to explain to the others why I was amused. I laughed again somewhere past Pilot Mountain when I missed the split and my left-hand exit, and ended up on the "scenic route" (i.e. the wrong path). In my defense, that area looked different back in October, and what Google Maps showed me did NOT match up with what was going on in the real world. Wow, if that isn't the story of my life.
This "scenic route" was just another way through Winston-Salem, a bit further west than planned, and eventually got me back on track. It was still interstate, there were still cops chasing down speeders, and it was still heavily traveled. The sign for Durham made my stomach do a little flip, but not as much as the display showing how close I was to The End. Arrival time and check-in time did not quite line up, and it'd been 2+ hours since my last stop, so I pulled off and found a place to pee, get a soda, and stretch my legs. Burlington, NC. It' 65 degrees here, and raining. Steamy. My mousse-crunchy hair was not yet a victim of the elements, and it took everything in my power to not play with it and ruin the curls I had going.
*~*~*~*~
We trudged our way to the car, Violet thrilled by the puddles and the rain and the general chaos caused by both. I instantly regretted my Crocs-and-socks choice, but Crocs without socks isn't much better. That said, 4 hours in stompy shoes is also not ideal. Oh, to have footwear choices!
Settled in the car, I was surprised when Google Maps told me I was only 3.5 hours from my Airbnb. I guess I misjudged the halfway point by quite a bit; next time, Charleston will be far enough for after work. All joy faded when Google Maps then told me to take US19 for 9 miles, rather than getting back on the Interstate we'd exited the night before. It was another two-lane, no-shoulder, twisty-turny affair, and I was having NO part of that again. As soon as I could, I pulled off and checked the map. Turns out we were headed to I-77, and this road would get me there. *deep breath* it's 20ish ore miles, but I can do this. Right? Right. US19 was mostly straight but hilly, and the locals weren't driving at homicidal speeds, so I kept pace with them at 10 over, feeling comfortable at that, but not so comfortable that the littles and the brain squirrels could interrupt me.
There was still snow in the mountains of S WV, and the mid-50s temps made it foggy, but not terribly so. More mist and clouds than anything, with just enough rain nd road spray to by annoying. I recognized some things (the Princeton exit) but the rest was new to me. I guess it's only my third trip through here in 9 months, so expecting to know every bump and twist and landmark is still la bit much to ask. I'm still amused that "welcome to Virginia" comes in the middle of a tunnel through a mountain. Everyone was tired from last night's shenanigans, apparently, or they would have been insufferable by this point. Dev and Violet pass up a chance to terrorize Angel while going through a tunnel? They're either OUT COLD or I left them behind. "Was that a __[tbd]______?" I asked a little too loudly, and got the expected reply out of Dev; OK, the gang's all here.
When traffic and weather allowed, I let my brain wander, often having to yank it back quickly when I came up too quickly on a slow moving semi, or the brain squirrels got out of hand. The basement stairwell on the back side of the church that summer ... that close, humid feeling of late summer, mixed with fear, as I tried desperately to get home long past when I should have been ... that upper-classman and his Shatner-staccato words and hot breath in my ear in the middle of art class, our teacher not 10 feet away.
"STOP!" I demand, startling myself back to the present and the littles to full consciousness. "Not here. Not now," came the words, firm. I glanced at the gas gauge, realizing I should fill up soon, and took the next truck stop exit. Angel gasped in horror when she realized we had exited the interstate onto state road 666 in VA. Dev ran with it, tormenting her all while I searched for a pump that worked ("#8 chip isn't working"), filled up, parked, and ran inside. I chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all as i approached the car, those two squabbling and violet watching, back and forth, like a judge at a tennis match. Dev tried to drag me into the thick of things as i texted family and settled in for he return to the road. "Nope, not gonna bite," I told them, giving them The Look. [Expand on The Look w/ or w/o mom references]
The next two hours passed mostly uneventfully, with rain and heavy fog, and more semis than I would have preferred. I was glad the dualy in front of me hit his flashers when things got bad; I followed suit, and rolled with the 45 MPH pace through fog too thick to see the FOG WARNING signs. I had to laugh at the absurdity of that, but declined to explain to the others why I was amused. I laughed again somewhere past Pilot Mountain when I missed the split and my left-hand exit, and ended up on the "scenic route" (i.e. the wrong path). In my defense, that area looked different back in October, and what Google Maps showed me did NOT match up with what was going on in the real world. Wow, if that isn't the story of my life.
This "scenic route" was just another way through Winston-Salem, a bit further west than planned, and eventually got me back on track. It was still interstate, there were still cops chasing down speeders, and it was still heavily traveled. The sign for Durham made my stomach do a little flip, but not as much as the display showing how close I was to The End. Arrival time and check-in time did not quite line up, and it'd been 2+ hours since my last stop, so I pulled off and found a place to pee, get a soda, and stretch my legs. Burlington, NC. It' 65 degrees here, and raining. Steamy. My mousse-crunchy hair was not yet a victim of the elements, and it took everything in my power to not play with it and ruin the curls I had going.
*~*~*~*~
