Musings of a Traveler

With no formal plans during Penn State’s spring break, I decided at the last minute to make the trip to South Carolina. I figured a day in the car to get there and one to get home was worth it to spend some time with my kids who moved south last summer. My husband couldn’t leave because of work so I decided to make the trip alone and take the oldest of our two dogs along with me for the ride.

Twelve hours in a car with just a canine companion offers time for observation and introspection.

I packed the car the night before and pulled out of the driveway at 5 am. I had snacks, a phone charger, an auxiliary cord and some blankets for my passenger. I also took a cooler with Wegman’s macaroni and cheese per request from daughter #1.

Sometimes the experience is about getting there.

Even though I had my cell phone with my subscription music service app, I spent most of the time flipping channels and listening to the radio. It’s funny how there always seems to be that one song or songs that are played over and over. I heard so much Adele on this trip — both coming and going — that for a brief second I wondered if she had passed away. The further South one goes, options for religious stations as well as country music stations seem to overtake popular music channels. My friend Dorothea would be proud to know that I spent some time listening to NPR as well. 

We’ve joked that to get to Hilton Head, you “go to DC and turn right.” It’s about eight hours straight on I-95 through Virginia, North Carolina, past South of the Border into South Carolina and then just before Georgia, you head left to the coast. 

Interstate 95 is an experience in itself. As the longest North-South route in the country, it is one of the most heavily traveled and, in many places, congested highways in America. When the final piece is finished through Pennsylvania and New Jersey, Interstate 95 will be a straight route from Florida to Canada. According to Wikipedia sourcing the US Census Bureau, there are only five areas on I-95 that are completely rural.

Translation: hold on to your hat on I-95. It is either a bumper to bumper traffic jam or people driving 70 miles an hour with what feels like a yard of space between each car. I was passed by people going well over that and got stuck behind people in the passing lane who were barely going the speed limit. I got caught between a line of tractor-trailers and, at one point, almost had to drive into the grassy median to avoid a semi that pulled in front of me. The stretch of road between DC and Richmond has to be the worst and most clogged. Thankfully, on my way south, I missed the peak hours. On the way home, I wasn’t quite as lucky.  That older woman who was driving only 45 miles per hour near Fayetteville created a back-up that had a ripple effect for miles after her.

All along the way, I had my companion who never made a sound and barely moved. 

Because of my dog, I made use of the rest stops that are along the route.  Rest stops have restrooms, vending machines, picnic tables and dog walk areas. Most even had the little bag dispensers for picking up after your pet. It was neat to see people picnicking at one stop and frustrating to note that I arrived just behind a bus full of women at another. Several had attendants keeping the areas clean. Rest areas are a great option although, as a woman traveling alone, I’m not sure I would make that decision after dark. 

I had my own version of the Wawa versus Sheetz debate when I was looking for gas or food or a break.  Sheetz was inevitably the winner. I managed to avoid South of the Border though. As Pedro says “You never sausage such a place.” 

In Santee, S.C., I happened upon Smith’s, a gas station and souvenir shop. Their billboards advertise boiled peanuts, 70 different kinds of fudge and pralines. They have a bake shop right next door as well.  As I waited in line to pay for some bottled water, I overheard the woman behind the counter ask the customer in front of me if he wanted a warm one. I couldn’t figure out what she was offering until I saw behind her a pile of those infamous southern pralines – butter, sugar and pecans – like I had never seen before. I stepped up and said “I’ll take one of those too.” She handed a warm, gooey, sugary delight and a paper towel “so you can eat it in the car.” I’m sure my dog wasn’t impressed with either my oohs and aahs as we headed back on the road or by my lack of willpower.

To travel, as they say, is to take a journey into yourself.

Spending that much time in the car gave me time to think. I thought about the semester and end of the year activities. I thought about plans for the summer, the house, the yard and the future. I thought about family and friends. I thought about blessings and opportunities. I spent time just listening.

Catching a flight to South Carolina via Savannah would have been much quicker and I could have avoided all of that time on the road. There are times in the future that I will probably make that decision. The freedom of the road, the options to stop and visit, and the time spent thinking and learning and experiencing these United States can also be a good time too.