Day Thirteen. All the Luck in the World and Maybe Some Skill, Too.

The rain continued on for the entire drive home. It was bad enough that it was raining at all, but it rained in heavy, blasting sheets. The wind blew so hard it moved my car out of its' lane. I saw the other cars being pushed along from side to side. It scared the shit out of me.

I stopped at a rest stop after an hour of white knuckle driving. I checked the weather radar on my iPhone. It looked grim. I had no idea that it was a serious storm, packing wind warnings, but I knew it was going to be a trial by fire to get to Connecticut. I broke down and called Sam. I cried hysterically. I didn't want to upset him, but I was beat. I didn't think I could go any further. I was done.

"Where are you? Let me see where you are on the map and I'll come get you and we can drive home together!"

"I'm 247 miles away. That's crazy. You don't have to do that. I just need to cry for awhile and tell you I'm scared. I'm sorry to upset you. I know if I want to get home, I have to get home."

"Well, I can come meet you in Scranton? Or anywhere, just tell me where."

Sam's such a good person! I knew he couldn't fix the weather or come and rescue me. I wasn't about to sit in a tiny rest area for 5 hours and wait for him, nor would I ask him to do such a thing.

So I dried my tears and told myself I'd stop every 40 or 50 miles to take a breather, but I seriously considered finding a hotel to stay at until the weather cleared.

It was too early to check into a hotel, only about 11am at the time, and I told myself to just keep at it.

The roads are rutted from the semi-truck traffic. In addition to that, the concrete? they used has splits perpendicular to the road direction. I found it added to my misery by leaps and bounds. I struggled to keep the car on the road and in the lane, while idiots were flying past me at over 70mph. Some of the truckers were equally nuts, but most kept at a decent pace.

Passing them was not fun. Their tires kick up such a huge spray of dirt and water. I kept worrying that my mass air intake was going to get clogged up and any second the car was going to shut off. Each truck I passed, I could feel my car tug towards the cab from the force of the drag. I'd speed up to get it over with, but with the wet, windy conditions and crappy road surface it was all I could do to not lose control of the car.

I got angry. Really angry and fed up.

By the time I got to Scranton, I ditched any plans of visiting Electric City Harley or The Glider Diner. I wanted away from the rain and the crap...away from the perilous mountain passes on acute twisting turns. Yes, I'm afraid of heights, too. I tried not to be afraid. I told myself to just face it. Look at the view of the foggy, rainy abyss and love it, but I just got more scared and more angry.

It was torture and it never let up.

I finally got out of Pennsylvania. Man, that's a big state! New York's welcome sign was indeed a happy sight for me. I knew the rest of the way home without GPS. Fairly soon, I'd be so close that I could get TOWED the rest of the way using my handy-dandy AAA plus membership! I relaxed a little bit. I thought about Sam. I thought about NOT being a crazy psycho bitch when I saw him. I turned up the stereo and let myself focus on getting this task over and done with and let my anger fade.

100 miles to go...

36 miles to the CT border...

Welcome to Connecticut!

Then the tears hit. I fucking did it. I was back in CT with lots of traffic and lunatic drivers. I didn't care. I flew along, thinking it was almost over. I was gonna get home, even if the car stalled out right now, I'd be able to get home. No more worries. My heart soared.

Bennet's Bridge Road. 1.1 miles to go.

I called Sam, ready to tell him I was not in PA, then surprise him by being in the driveway, but he surprised me by saying;

"Is that YOU???I see you!!!!! I'm in the driveway!!!"

Sam had been using Loopt to track my progess and the GPS had dropped out when I got to Newtown. He was standing by his car waving furiously at me. I hung up the phone and flew down the driveway and shut off the car. I swung the door open, crying, and fell into Sam's arms. He started jumping up and down, hugging me hard.

I did it. I made it home. 2753 miles-conincidently it was the same distance I would have driven one way to Fallon, NV. I never would have been able to make this trip even if my car hadn't fallen apart mid-way. It's just too far to go alone and in truth, it would have taken at least three weeks, instead of two, to do the trip and I fear it would have really killed me from sheer exhaustion, alone.

I've enjoyed writing about my crazy journey, so I will continue blogging about my daily thang. It may not be as exciting as death defying drives to Des Moines, Iowa, but that might be nice right now. Of course, I'll take lots more FOOD PORN shots and write-ups about places I discover, so keep visiting me here. We'll see how it goes.

All I know is I'm home. Safe and sound. In one piece, my car, too.

Home at last.