Annapolis to Austin: Our 5-day journey into the deep south

What does it mean to drive down a long, straight road all day long? A road that extends forever in the same direction, and when you get to the point you've been waiting to reach, it only continues, on and on, teasing you with its endlessness? To drive this road, this taunting road, in a 16' UHaul truck full of the things you've collected your whole life? It means focus. A lot of focus and perhaps a bit of insanity. But we did have some fun along the way.

NS, my mom, and I set out from my parent's driveway at 7:45am on Monday, June 1. It seemed like a good day to begin a journey. An anxious caravan - Prius following UHaul - meandering down the 2-lane country roads of southern Maryland. 

A traffic hiccup in Virginia caused slight delays, but we reached our destination for the night - Seabrook Island, South Carolina - just before 8pm, where we were welcomed into the house of dear friends with warm meals and beds for not one but two nights. The comfort of visiting loved ones to break up a long journey is like no other. We were so thankful for beach wanderings and ball throwing; swimming in the turquoise-colored sea; and gathering together around a table late into the evenings. It was bliss and our imminent departure came too soon.

But the south was calling, luring us in with its Spanish moss draping the trees and its warm temperatures enveloping our bodies. I love the south.

We chose a back-roads route through Georgia to break up the monotony - and danger - of Interstate 95. It was probably not the fastest way to go in the end, but we got to drive through some stunning countryside, where rolling fields close in on proud farmhouses perched beneath tall oaks and willows. It almost made being in the rumbling cabin of the truck peaceful.

Interstate 10 cuts across the US at the ankles, from one coast to the other, and we were dumped onto it in the Florida Panhandle, where the trees are green and life is slow. (Thank you, slow life.) 

The forest lakes we crossed over in Louisiana

In our search for accommodation that evening, we came upon a quaint, funky beach town called Grayton Beach*. There was very little there, but what was there was so perfectly wonderful and I decided that if we couldn't stay there that night (and even if we could), I would come back some day. And I will!

As it turned out, Grayton Beach was not in the cards for us on this particular night. We continued up the coast - thankfully having gained an extra hour crossing to the Central time zone - and settled for a hotel along the highway in Miramar Beach.

Our last full day of driving brought us through:

• what little was left of the Panhandle
• the squared-off tip of Alabama (pee break)
• Mississippi (lunch at Diamondhead's Harbor House Steamer Yacht Club overlooking the St. Louis Bay)
• Louisiana (gas refill/route- & meat-buying-advice from a local fueling his truck, open beer in hand)
• and finally, the very start of Texas.

We passed only a handful of the 880 exits that span Texas along Interstate 10 before calling it quits for the night in Beaumont. After settling into a hotel, we found an authentic Cajun seafood and Texas steakhouse called Floyds. Floyds' sweet tea was sweet and its seafood gumbo was spicy. Most everything else was friiiiied.

One of many, many gas stops

Friday - glorious Friday - brought us to our destination by 1pm. Austin! We made it, finally, completely intact and a little bit worldlier in the ways of the south. I guess there's lots more of that to come now that we're Texas residents. Just have to find me some cowboy boots!

*Random fact: Grayton Beach's eastern neighbor is a town called Seaside, which is where The Truman Show was filmed. We didn't make it to Seaside this time.

Road Trip to Västervik

I think mid-January is the perfect time for a road trip. Maybe it's all the slush that's covering the streets of Stockholm, or the fact that I don't see the sun Monday-Friday, but going south seemed like a great idea last Friday. And because there was a surprise 30th birthday party scheduled for a friend on Saturday night, we made it happen - to Västervik. 

We squeezed into Nik's brother's Passat - 5 of us - straight after work on Friday, and made it to Västervik by 9. Not bad considering the ice and drifts of snow that sometimes covered our entire lane on a 2-lane road. These weren't the safest of conditions, but we arrived in one piece and were welcomed with vino and a delicious Taco Pie.

Saturday consisted of visiting with Nik's family and eating-napping-eating, a truly wonderful existence. And then, 

the birthday party! 

The gathering was literally a Sausage Fest. There were sausages hanging discreetly by the door to the venue  (so as not to be noticed by the birthday boy when he first arrived, unsuspecting), and inside were half a dozen different types of sausage: cold, hot, smoked, cured, chorizo, bratwurst. Think Bubba Gump shrimp, but with sausage.

It was wonderful and cozy and Axel (who turned 30) was surprised... although he had been wondering why there were so many potatoes in his parents' kitchen. Unfortunately, at the very moment he arrived, I crouched, ready with my camera, and heard a small beep:

Battery needs to be charged.

Noooo!

Somehow, as often happens, a few hours later my camera unexplainably mustered enough energy to take the only picture I have from our entire weekend. (See below)

This is what brotherly love looks like

Thank you Västervik and Happybirthday Axel!!

Dreary Erie a Mistake by the Lake??

If you know Erie, PA, then you know the phrase. But that doesn't mean the saying rings true. I myself have said it before, but there's a lot more to my thoughts on Erie than summing it up as a rainy little town on a great big lake.

To me, Erie is

a long car ride to get to, for which I'd always bring several books to occupy myself, as if the trip would take several days and not 8 hours
the long-awaited arrival, at which time my brother and I were reunited with our cousins and would immediately race to their basement where an unending loop of bumper bikes/ would ensue for hours

trips to the lake for swimming and jetskiing and fireworks and bonfires

seeing the church my great great great grandmother helped found.... and the building my grandmother used to work in..... and the little house where my great grandparents lived, now in the not-so-nice section of town
WALDAMEER - it may not be the biggest amusement park, but it kept us happy for a loooong time

ice cream sundae's at Dairy Queen - I'm not sure why I associate Erie with Dairy Queen but I do

elaborate plans to sneak out of our bedrooms in the middle of the night past "the grown ups" to go downstairs for a snack - and usually failing
sea glass!
drive-by's past "the castle" where my great grandmother once lived - and which, at least now, bears no resemblance to a castle

Erie is all of these things to me. But how could a mistake be so beautiful?

A Walk/Drive on the Wild Side of NC

Another weekend = another opportunity to take a road trip, this time to visit my friend Jennie, who lives somewhere in the midst of the triangle cities of North Carolina.  In preparation for the 5+ hour drive, I brought lots of snacks so I wouldn't have to stop and eat, and checked out a few books on CD to keep myself entertained.  Unfortunately, about a 1/2 mile from my house, the CD player in my car suddenly stopped working.  And then my radio stopped working too (I had to start singing to myself at one point; fortunately, there was no one else in the car to hear me).  It was about halfway through the drive that the ache in my right leg prompted me to look for the cruise control function, at which point I realized it does not exist in my car (I am a new owner of this 2000 Toyota Corolla).  And once I got close to my destination, my mapquest directions led me astray, landing me in what I later learned was a not-so-safe area of Durham.  Oh the joys of road trips. 

Jennie's place, which I finally reached slightly later than planned, is south of Durham, in an apartment complex complete with an outdoor pool, open year-around, a gym, and a coded gate to get inside.  It could have been a dilapidated trailer park for all I cared - I was just happy to finally be out of my car.

Saturday was a gorgeous fall day, the kind where you can't help but do something outdoors, no matter how badly you may be feeling from the previous night's festivities.  We forced ourselves up and out of bed, grabbed a greasy breakfast at McAlisters where we shared a supreme 'spud' i.e. open-faced baked potato topped with turkey, bacon, ham, olives, cheese, chives, and sour cream with some of the most amazing potato soup I've ever tasted, then headed to the William B. Ulmstead State Park. 

The park is tucked between Raleigh and Durham, and has over 20 miles of winding trails to hike.  We chose a 7.2 mile route to casually walk/jog (mostly walk), and were off.  The trail winds along Crabtree Creek, gently rolling up and down with the hills.  Trees surrounded us, completely covering the landscape, their leaves a full range of shades, from glowing red to shriveling yellow.  We saw a huge birdhouse, squirrels, mushrooms, and a few deep holes in the ground, surely inhabited by creatures I'd rather not come face to face with.  At one point along the creek, we came upon what looked like a beaver's den - with a buck lying on top, crushed by a tree that fell on him.  That poor deer really was in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

We finished in about 90 minutes, feeling refreshed and energized.  I'd say this beats a treadmill any day.