Sitka or Bust: Commute The World

I drove approximately a thousand miles from New Hampshire to Michigan as I started my road trip to Minnesota for work. Now, for someone who 1. doesn’t drive highways 2. avoids driving in unfamiliar areas and 3. has limited directional capacity that was a big step. Especially when you consider the fact that I did the trip on my own.

In preparation, I stockpiled a pile of car maintenance tools like Fix a Flat and basic handyman tools like star wrenches and a jack just in case I needed to fix something on the road. I also helped rotate my tires and change the oil (remember that article) so I’ve pretty much exponentially increased my knowledge base of automotive.

Anyways, I left at 1am and drove to New York before I felt like I was getting dangerously sleepy. There, I pulled off by a rest station and McDonald’s and reclined awkwardly in my Squirtle before falling into a fitful sleep complete with slack jaw. I woke to laughing children ogling my fly-catching skills about two hours later. Seriously one of the better moments of my sleeping being watched.

There were literally no cars on the road because it was such a gross, miserable commute in the rain. Even at the McDonald’s I walked right to the counter where the guy was looking decidedly bored and watched as he made my oatmeal. It seemed to be something he relished doing with the amount of time he spent lovingly stirring in the fruit.

By the time I made it to Ohio I had run over a small woodland creature. I’m thinking it was a woodchuck that crept onto the highway, right in front of my left tire. I, thinking it would about kill me to squish a tiny creature, swerved to the right so the critter was between both my tires. My relief was overshadowed when I heard the tell-tale thump of said small furry creature hitting my bumper. Of course, I should never look in the rear-view mirror if I hit something because it was just too traumatic.

To my overwhelming joy though, I looked back to see that little bugger wandering, though somewhat dazed, off the side of the highway and hopefully to the safety of the woods. My optimism is hoping that he didn’t just crawl into the woods to die. Fingers crossed.

With about four hours to go in my 18 hour day, I started to notice that my left arm was getting cooked in the sunshine.  It’s nice to know that my permanently pale body can actually tan again, but I kinda wish that driving resulted in a nice even suntan rather than a Harvey Dent esque burn.

Thursday I leave for the next leg of my journey. Only about ten hours drive this time, so here’s to baking another layer of tan onto that bicep.