Honey, I’ll Go Get The Wine, Pt II

On US Hwy 2

On the following day—i.e., Saturday, Feb 6—early in the morning, I got in Fluffy and the adventure began. The challenges appeared soon: By mid-morning, I was at the onset of the climb to Stephens Pass, WA. The conditions there weren’t very friendly, to say the least: snowing, freezing cold temperatures, windy, and lots of traffic (the weekend skiing crowd, I’ve been told). Adding to that, I could not figure out how to activate the Traction Control on the Mustang—an over-powered, rear wheel-drive car—so I had a tough time keeping her from fishtailing. Still, with a little rear skid here, and a little rear skid there, some way, somehow, I got to the top. And equally important, with nothing to report to Hertz! On that first night, at the hotel in Bonners Ferry, ID, I went through Fluffy’s Manual, reading all about turning her Traction Control on, but as I would soon find out, the thing either wasn’t working, or it didn’t control much traction at all!

On the 2nd day riding, I was hit by reality: after a tough morning (more snow, ice, temperatures as low as 5 F / -15 C, and still unable to get Fluffy to stop with her occasional skids), in Kalispell, MT, I turned right, heading south. Had I stayed on Hwy 2, I would soon have to face Maria’s Pass (5213 ft / 1589 m), something that I really did not want to do. As a matter of fact, by then, the whole experiment had gone from Having Fun-mode to Survival-mode, so time to change plans. And change plans I did: I would go south, towards Missoula, MT, to get on Interstate I-90 and finish crossing the Rockies on it. At that time, I was still hoping to rejoin US 2 (and the original route) a few days ahead, in Williston, ND.

Curiously enough, shortly after Missoula (i.e., already on I-90), things got as tough as they would get, so I decided that Butte, MT, would be as far as I would go. Found a hotel on my GPS, and some way, somehow—yes, again—I got to its parking lot. …And with a few more close calls here and there, but still nothing more than that!

Change to the Changed Plans

That evening at the hotel, more reality hitting: a huge mass of arctic air was about to move into the Midwest. High temperatures as low as -8 F / -22 C, lows as low as -18 F / -28 C, and snow. Nope. No go. I knew from the beginning that I could possibly end up having to hunker down somewhere in-route for a day or two, due to bad weather. But this was different, as it was forecast to last a week. Unfortunately, the 10-day clock was ticking.

I would have to change things yet again, and this time rather drastically. For starters, I would have to say goodbye once and for all to any thoughts of ever going back to US 2. But worse, I would also have to say goodbye to the idea of routing my itinerary through Rhode Island to unload the wine. Instead, I would aim straight to the finish line in DC, certain that I would find an alternative way to get the wine home at a later time.

I had one day before the arctic air moved in, so I decided that I would go further south. As in really south. All the way to Utah. And then east through southern Wyoming and Nebraska. …And then reevaluate.

Mile-Eating Mode

And so it was. The first plus or minus 50 miles / 80 km after leaving from Butte in the morning were tough. But the rest of that day and the next one were pretty much uneventful. Good milage-days: 673 miles / 1083 km to Rawlins, WY, on the first one; 596 miles / 960 km to Lincoln, NE, on the second. In Utah, on the first of those days, I even saw some temperatures above freezing. On the second, as expected, I was hit by the dreaded arctic air—the temperature immediately dropped to around 5 F / -15 C.

Heading Further South

In Lincoln, after studying various weather forecasts, I opted to go a bit further south. Which was great, as this meant crossing the mighty Mississippi in St. Louis, MI. First time for me in this city, so once there, I left the highway to go for a brief windshield tour of the place. And brief it was, given that driving conditions in the city remained a bit challenging. Still, I managed to get my eyes on the iconic Gateway Arch. I remember thinking at the time, “I left home hoping to see Bob Dylan’s house in Duluth, MN, and cross Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, and here I am, taking pictures of the Arch in St. Louis…”

My plan as I left this American city named after a French king of the 13th century was to overnight in Louisville, KY—yet another American city named after a French king, but this one from the 18th century! Unfortunately, the Weather Gods weren’t in on this plan: About 20 or so miles before Evansville, IN, I got hit by… frozen rain! Yes, I was still missing this one! Frozen rain, which immediately started to accumulate on the road surface as plain old ice. After a couple of scares, I decided that it was time to look for a hotel. I ended up overnighting in the suburbs of Evansville, about 100 miles short of Louisville.

By this point, my trip started to remind me a bit of one of those old video games: there you were trying to go forward while ducking and jumping and punching and shooting whatever obstacles showed up in your way; If you didn’t get “killed,” you would go up a level; …which meant nothing more than facing the next set of obstacles—i.e., more ducking and jumping and punching and shooting!

Ms. Fluffy Goes to Washington

At the hotel in Evansville, looking at weather maps—yes, by this point, the trip was feeling more like a boat passage than a road trip—I saw that, at the time, there were two large, back to back weather system crossing the US on a northeasterly path, i.e., more or less in the same direction that I needed to go. The frozen rain that ended my ride on that day was being produced by the forward most one of them. Behind it, trailing by a day or a day and half, came the second system, similar in everything to the leading one. Meaning more snow and frozen rain. I realized that I could get into DC in relative “peace” if I stayed between the two systems. And that’s what I did.

Conforming to my new plan, I had a late start out of Evansville. And a slow one as well, the slow-ness due to the ice still on the road from the night storm. But conditions normalized considerably in a couple of hours, which allowed me to go up to my normal cruising speed on US roads—anywhere between 5 to 10 MPH / 8 to 15 KPH above the posted speed limit. By mid-afternoon, around Beckley, WV, I started catching up with the storm in front of me, so time to stop. I was now approximately 300 miles / 500 km from the finish line in DC.

The following day—i.e., Friday, Feb 12—was pretty much a copy of the previous one: late and slow start, followed by more normal conditions. Things were going so well by late in the morning that, as I drove by Winchester, VA, on Interstate I-80, I decided to go for lunch in Cumberland, MD. This little detour meant making an additional 125 miles / 200 km, but, at this point, who was counting, right? Besides, it was still early on the day, I was in no hurry to get to DC, and… I just love that place!

After lunch, the stretch from Cumberland to DC—i.e., the last bit of riding on this road trip—was a tough one. And this not because of weather conditions or anything else, but rather, because of my emotions! Yes, as it turns out, on this bit of highway, I was hit hard by the fact that my incredible trip was coming to an end, and that soon I would have to give Fluffy back to Hertz!

Victory Laps

So, there, suddenly I found myself in DC, done with driving. Time for the victory laps. Yes, plural! The first one to Eastport, MD, for lunch at Davis’ Pub. My favorite place on my favorite neighborhood in this neck of the woods.

And the second one, to Chevy Chase, for yet another lunch, this one at Chef Duarte’s Tavira, an old time favorite of mine, as far as Portuguese restaurants in the US.

Soon it was time to clean Fluffy up a bit and return her to her owner.

Concluding Thoughts

All in all, 3713 miles / 5975 km, and 61h16m of moving time, in 7 calendar days. This means a full 8h45m of moving time per day, and a moving average of 60.6 mph / 97.5 km/h. Incredible, I think. Both! But especially the moving average, when one considers how many miles I made at 20 & 30 mph (40 & 50 km/h), some of them on Interstate highways; when one considers that I only saw temps above freezing on 2 days—on the 1st one, leaving from Everett, WA, and on the day I crossed Utah; when one considers the 2 nights with very little sleep, in Butte, MT, and in Evansville, IN, worrying about how bad things were going to be in the following morning; or when one considers that at one point, while still on US Hwy 2 in upper Montana, I thought that Hertz would have to get me and Fluffy out of there with a helicopter!

On another set of indicators—my own desires at the onset of this trip—I was 0 for 3:

But it wasn’t all bad. Personally, I am now much more tolerant to cold weather. I remember in Beckley, WV, getting to the car early in the morning with a temperature outside of 30 F (-1 C) and thinking, darned, it’s warm today! I am now much more confident driving overpowered, rear wheel-drive cars over snow & ice (hey, it may come handy someday…). And I am now much better at predicting that it is going to start snowing in the next 10 minutes or so. On the latter, I couldn’t help but think of a band that labored on the punk and rock & roll scene of the DC area a few decades ago, led by a good friend of mine (now a great diplomat serving the US overseas). And the name of the band, you ask? BOHICA, an US Army acronym for Bend Over, Here It Comes Again. …Used when under incoming artillery fire from the enemy, of course (what were you thinking?). Well, that’s how I felt when it was about to start snowing yet again…!