Getting lost down dusty trails
I had moved back from Huntsville to my parents' trailer in Burleson County. The cost of staying on campus was too high now that the economy was going belly up and so I had made the cost-saving suggestion I stay at home until my dad was working again. The cost of me commuting the 90-minute drive from my university to my parents' place was significantly lower than the cost of any kind of housing situation in Huntsville.
It was June of 2009 - a detail I remember because the new Fallout 3 DLC - Point Lookout - had just been released, and I could in no way justify purchasing it myself (this will come up later - I promise). My friend suggested I come stay a weekend with him in Dallas - an invitation I graciously accepted.
My friend technically lived in Denton - a cozy suburb north of Dallas. At around 230 miles and about three and a half hours of travel, this would officially be the longest road trip I had ever taken. I printed up MapQuest directions, but my father also bequeathed me his old first edition GPS device to mount on my dashboard for the travel. And a Texas road map, which I rolled my eyes at.
The actual visit was great. My friend showed me his favorite eateries. We walked around his apartment complex. We watched a boatload of YouTube. And, of course, he had to show me the new Point Lookout DLC as we were both huge into Fallout 3. I had originally aimed to leave around four on my last day there, but four turned into staying for dinner with more Point Lookout, which then turned to waiting for the end-of-workday traffic to let up.
That led to getting out to my car around 8pm, and finally leaving around 8:30 after a bit more talking.
The device's suggested route had me drive through Dallas proper. This was a poor choice as the route promptly tried to shoot me down several routes that were one-way roads, and avoiding a head-on collision ended up turning me around. I lost a decent bit of time worming around the streets.
Eventually, I broke free from the city and made it to the highway. The slight darkness was a stark enough contrast to the city lights that I instantly felt my heart steady. I got onto the highway, fired up my Hotel California CD, and drove off into the night. About an hour into my trek I took a closer look at one of the road signs and noticed that the highway was going... east? I knew my route was south.
I checked my GPS device. It had gone dim. I tapped the top of it to make it light up. It lost signal. Then began calculating a route again.
It was close to 10pm. I pulled over to call my dad and let him know I was lost when the GPS corrected itself. It wanted me to exit the highway completely.
He told me to be careful and hung up.
I followed my new directions off the interstate and down a narrow country highway. As much as I love the pasture now, driving down those dust and gravel country roads can be unnerving in the dead of night. There's very little ambient light and hiding anything beyond the scope of headlights and the occasional farmhouse. The light would catch on scraggly trees hooking over the roads like claws emerging from the darkness as the stones crunched under the tires.
It wouldn't bother me today as a much more seasoned traveler, but on my first road trip, with fresh memories of cannibalistic radioactive hillbillies swimming in my head? I hoped my car held out. I was getting tired of Hotel California, so I turned off my CD to instead just talk to myself, as I now often do on long drives.
Then my navigation told me to take a turn into a field. There was a small dirt road - which seemed to be primarily used by tractors that wound through a pair of corn fields.
"I've left Deliverance for Children of the Corn" I deadpanned to myself as I reluctantly took the turn. I yammered to myself to fill the silence for a few more minutes until I took another turn that once again put me on a gravel road.
You know it's bad when a gravel road is an upgrade.
That gravel road carved through more fields on either side, winding like a serpent as country roads often do. I turned my music back on, my imagination playing on the shadows beyond my visibility.
A little after midnight, the road turned from gravel to pavement under my wheels. One turn later, I saw an illuminated brick sign that read 'Mexia'.
A city. Lights.
I pulled into a gas station to check the map my dad had (wisely) given me and found Mexia, Texas.
The trip was much less nerve-wracking after that, aside from sleepiness. I began to bite my arm hard if I felt myself get too tired or unfocused. I still do that sometimes today.
I got back to my parent's home near Somerville around 2am. My mom had gone to sleep, but my dad was still up. He welcomed me home, and went to bed.
After letting my friend know I got home safe, I soon went to sleep myself.
That was my first road trip. I got much better at it, obviously. Within a year, I was driving halfway across the country like an old pro. I still wonder occasionally where the hell I was - especially that tractor road.
Thanks for reading, if you made it this far~