West Palm Beach to Nashville
My five o’clock Matt Holliday alarm clock was not so welcome that early Sunday morning. Too early to start the advertised thirteen-hour drive back home. Naturally, we knew it would take longer.
6:15 – on the road, fuel up at the pump on a quiet street normally packed with Floridians getting their antique fix or Cuban food. And we were back on 95 headed north, all a little more burnt, and two Fits a little more full of beach sand.
Stopped at a nest of Georgian pecans and oranges on our way out of Florida. Only I’m pretty sure there were no actual pecans or oranges purchased this time. Saltwater taffy, fireworks, etc. I think the girls scooped up a few last-minute gifts for friends; those super gas station finds along the highway. And back on the road – fog-wrapped.
Sometime around Atlanta we managed to dodge the catastrophic 27 miles of parking lot traffic in the surrounding suburbs. But the city itself still stood in our way.
“Should we still try to skip it?”
“Eh … let’s just go for it.”
We always regret this decision. Add rain into that mix and a few accidents log-jamming the situation further, and we once again decided that Atlanta was the worst.
Headed into that one weird stretch of road where we slip from Georgia to Tennessee to Georgia and back to Tennessee again, Fit #1 was getting a little slap-happy. I was behind the wheel, winding through bending mountain roads in the dark and rain. Gut-laughter, slick roads, and curving corners at 70 mph don’t mix well. But there were no close calls.
We eventually pulled in at nine o’clock, about sixteen hours later, splitting into two motel rooms.
“This is the cheapest motel in Nashville,” Carrie declared almost proudly. “I’m not even kidding. Guys, this is not a safe place.”
I think they built it under the airport, too. Anyway, our evening ended with Ellen eating a pack of McDonald’s chicken nuggets and fries over a hand towel on the bed while watching “Alaskan Bush People”.
I guess I wouldn’t exactly call those sixteen hours a walk in the park, but if that’s what it takes to get me to Spring Training, I’ll still take it any day.