After exiting we found ourselves on the 441, which was a surface street exactly as described. The traffic was flowing along nicely, and we cruised down the street, elated to be off the road from hell nightmare. Tom asked if I wanted to stop and grab something to eat. My first priority was getting gas. We each had half a tank left, but I just had a feeling/nudge to get that taken care of ASAP, and worry about food later. My survivalist mindset and intuition were still kicking in full swing.
The first few stations we passed had lines and chaos crowds. We skipped those and kept going, finding a Shell station that didn’t have any lines. What luck, woohoo! But as we pulled up to our pumps, Tom noticed that they had bags over them.
“They don’t have gas, look, there’s bags over the handles.”
!!! My heart dropped. I saw the bags over the first two handles. The third didn’t have a bag though. It was for Regular, the kind I was getting. I pointed this out to Tom.
“The third one isn’t covered. That means they have it.”
And they did. When I was inside putting money on the pump, I realized I should put enough for me and Tom both, this way he could slip in right after me, and not have to waste time running inside, waiting in line to pay and taking forever. Because with every passing minute we were running the risk of them running out of Regular. If Tom was in line for a long time, by the time he finally got up to the cashier, or back out to the pump, it could be dry. We needed to be as quick as possible. He could reimburse me later.
I ran back outside, told him my plan, and his face lit up. Very good idea! So I pumped my gas really quickly, laid the pump handle on the ground, then motioned for him. He realized he was facing the wrong way and had to turn his car around. As soon as he pulled forward to turn around, a guy in a truck moved in to take the spot. I jumped in front of his truck and blocked him, and told him that the pump was already taken by my boyfriend, he’s moving his car around……the gas has already been paid for.
I’d already hurled my car in front of a car carrier and drove in the break down lane and dodged vigalantes by driving around them on the grass and openly defied a State Trooper by that point. So really, it was nothing to throw myself in front of a moving truck and expect him to stop. ;) A lot had changed since 1:45 that afternoon.
I expected a fight, but surprisingly he was a nice guy. He nodded. Tom rearranged his car, and began pumping. Tom felt bad for the guy so he went over and told him that he could slip in after him and be next. So, that was our arrangement.
We both finished, and by that time the place was an absolute zoo. It had filled up quickly, and there were now lines going out into the street, people coming in and going out every which way, a total clusterfuck. Tom got out, and I followed…driving my car in reverse, winding around this way and that, maneuvering to get out. That was pretty wild I realize in retrospect, driving backwards around everybody like it was nothing. It’s not something I’d ever done before.
And that was that. We both had full tanks of gas now and were good to go to proceed on the 441, to see where it took us. As we cruised down the street we soon realized that gas station after gas station was closed, with bags on their pump handles. You couldn’t get gas anymore. We were lucky we got any at all. If we’d stopped for food first, we would have been too late. So my intuition was right. !!
The 441 went on and on through Orlando, giving us the tour. Orlando looked a little rougher than most people probably picture it. In fact, in some areas it reminded me of Hollywood, CA. We stuck with it, winding our way around for miles and miles, unimpeded. Finally, we stopped at a gas station near Ocala to get some kind of coffee and food, and to use the bathroom. Didn’t need gas luckily…because they didn’t have any left any even if we did need it. We bought Frappacinos and two cans each of Dinty Moore beef stew and ate it in the parking lot with forks from a box in my trunk. Fed some to Kitty too off of my fork, who seemed to like it and ate a tiny bit, before losing interest.
I tried to get Kitty to use the litter box at this point, putting her in the box, moving the litter around with the pooper scooper, saying stuff about “poopies!!”, which is a word I know she knows. ;D But she’s a neurotic personality and will not go unless it’s inside a building, period. I was seriously worried about whether her not going to the bathroom would make her sick. There was nothing I could do though. There were bowls of food and water in the car for her and the litter box, but she wasn’t having any of it. When she’s traveling, she becomes paralyzed.
After that I had the idea to try hopping back on the 75 the rest of the way up to Gainesville and Georgia, rather than making our way on a winding highway. I figured it’s 3 a.m., the traffic has to be better by this point, right?
We found the 75 and it seemed like a great idea. For about 15 miles. All was clear and open, and we were going at 80 mph. Then up ahead it was taillights as far as the eye could see. All three lanes. Massive jam, not moving.
We slowed to a halt, then literally crawled one car space ahead at a time at 5 mph. Stop. One car space. Stop. It was absolutely RIDICULOUS. I had a seen a sign saying that the next exit was in 5 miles.
At worst we’d have to muck our way through this for 5 miles, max.
Problem was, traffic was not moving, AT all. And when traffic isn’t moving, 5 miles may as well be 500 cause it’ll take the same amount of time.
The feeling on this road was very negative, just pure rage and hostility, anger and frustration. You could feel it, like there was an invisible river of negative emotions flowing over the highway, up in the air, and all the hyper-D entities were having a total feeding frenzy in it. It was buffet time for 4D STS. ;)
I could not deal with this anymore and started getting a panicky, anxiety feeling. I’d gotten a lot braver and more daring since fighting our way on the Cheat Lane, and was in full daring, feisty fighter mode now, no more hesitation or nervousness, no longer intimidated by “vigilantes.” I was ready to face them head on. I was literally a different person than I was 13- 14 hours ago. I radio’d Tom. Come on, back onto the Cheat Lane. Other cars already had the same idea and were whizzing by all of us. Over we go. Coast is clear……GO!!!
We whipped our way past everybody, and finally had to merge back in further up the road near our exit. Nobody had ANY intention of voluntarily letting me in, HELL no, not after they had spent over half a day in that mess. I forced my way in, and the car I did that too went BESERK. This guy acted like an ANIMAL. He hung out his window and just cussed me up and down and inside out, his voice crazed and hoarse, just ranting and raving like a madman, on and on and on. He would not stop.
I ignored him. I felt no anger by this point. I understood the circumstances. Everybody was freaking out and absolutely FRAZZLED to their limits by this point, and I didn’t blame them. This was a maddening situation. I didn’t take it personally. He was screaming and yelling at an object that was in his way as far as he was concerned. I was not a person to him. I was just one more thing standing between him and open road freedom.
Soon, we were off the 75, onto a quiet, open, dark country road that lead back to the 441. We breathed a sigh of relief. All exits on the 75 lead to the 441. Thing is, pretty much NOBODY knew this. If they did, I guarantee they would have taken it in a heartbeat. The road was quiet and dark, out in the country surrounded by bezillions of trees, but yet, freshly paved, with dark pavement and bright white lines, and with speed limits past 60. But most importantly…it was empty. It was AWESOME. We were back in business again. I radio’d Tom telling him Well, I guess my idea about the 75 was wrong. Way wrong. We’ll just stick with the 441 from now on. He had been right!
We made our way on it for the next hour and fifteen minutes. It passed through small little towns in between stretches of highway, where the speed limit would drop down to 40. First the reduced speed, then a town, passing by businesses and churches and gas stations and restaurants, then past the outskirts, and the onramp to the 75, and then back out onto country highway.
The situation with the 75 looked so deceiving when we’d pass by those on ramps in those tiny towns. It always looked so open, as if traffic was flowing. But we knew — you get on it, it seems okay at first, like traffic is moving and everything’s finally cool, only to run into a massive angry psycho jam several miles down, after you’ve been lured in. And then you’re trapped in non-moving traffic and the next exit isn’t for miles. So don’t even bother, just stick to the 441.
We’d been scoping motels here and there sporadically along the way, but nobody had any vacancy. All the lots were full. Oftentimes the motels just turned off their signs to indicate no availability. I bet this was a first in these motels’ history.
After awhile, I was getting so damn tired I knew I couldn’t keep going much longer. I was getting to the point where I couldn’t see straight and my eyes were hurting, and I was dizzy. I needed to rest my eyes and take a nap. Soon. Problem was, we had no idea where. There were NO motel rooms for miles, so that obviously was not an option. There was no safe place to just pull off and catch a nap in the car. Finally though, we hit another small town and were passing by a parking lot in some weird looking plaza and I just knew — that’s it, right there. We’ll be fine. There were several cars parked in scattered positions around the lot, but nobody was around, and I just intuitively knew anyway that it would be cool if we stayed there. We did a u-turn and pulled in and parked side by side under a lamp light, with Tom to my left.
I pretty much conked out right away and wasted no time. Grabbed my soft comfy pillow, adjusted myself, and leaned over onto my pillow on my right and immediately fell into a deep, deep intense sleep. I didn’t wake once in the next two hours.
When I awoke, dawn had arrived, and the sky was a gray blue color, the air moist with fog. It was almost 7 a.m. I had to pee in the worst way, so sleeping was no longer possible. I didn’t need sleep anymore though, surprisingly. I felt refreshed, and my eyes were good again. I got more out of that brief sleep than I usually do when I sleep for 8 hours. It was like a high quality super condensed sleep. If only I could normally sleep like that, and go for almost 24 hours then sleep intensely for two hours and get up, raring to go. Life would be good! I know that when I went to sleep I kept thinking “programming” thoughts about how refreshed I would be when I woke up and how everything would be fine, all I needed was a couple hours nap. Maybe I talked myself into having that restful alert mentality. Self-hypnotic programming. ;)
Tom and I got ourselves together in our cars in that wet, slightly cool and thick early morning air. Nobody driving by on the road or coming into the parking lot paid us any mind. Good! No cops or anything crazy. My intuition had told me we’d be okay though. I changed my clothes, although I was REALLY dirty. All that leftover grime from the day before — the gallons of sweat, the sun block, the dirt. I felt nasty. My hair felt oily. I combed it into a clip. I was glad to get that stale sweat soaked tank top off and put on a clean dry one. I rinsed my grimey feeling hands with the bottled water, but it didn’t help much. My nails had black stuff in them from the gas station.
Interestingly though I have no problem roughing it. It doesn’t bother me to sleep in my car, change in my car, brush my teeth outside in a parking lot. I don’t care. Although now, I had a twinge of anxious uneasiness because I kept going back and forth in my mind about whether we were doing the right thing in leaving. Now I was starting to have doubts, and for a split second, it bothered me that I had no actual home at this point. My apartment was hundreds of miles away, and we were here, with no place to sleep. I was a true transient, and for some reason it was affecting me. I felt uneasy and anxious, with my stomach in knots. I pushed it aside and said nothing, just moving forward.
We got in our cars and took off, in search of a fast food restaurant that would be open serving breakfast. The town was quiet, not too many cars on the road. My fear had been that by this point, everybody and their uncle would finally have discovered the 441, and all those full-to-capacity motels we had passed by on the way would be emptying their contents and we’d be faced with loads of traffic. But there was nothing. The town was quiet and just starting to wake up, despite it being a Friday. I was used to living in urban areas, where the surface streets are in full force by 7 a.m., cars everywhere, people getting to work. We were in a small town now. It helped contribute to my uneasiness, as I don’t really like towns like that – towns that are big enough to be a town, not a village, but are nowhere NEAR the size of an urban area. It’s that strange in-between thing, where it’s too small and too claustrophobic. I was used to big and impersonal. Plus, this place just had its own weird vibe in general going on. Every place has its own vibe, this one’s vibe was “strange.”
The first McDonalds we passed was packed, so we skipped on by. The next thing was Burger King, which was practically empty. We left Kitty on Tom’s front seat who was just lying there, curled into a ball with her feeties tucked underneath her. She looked weary and sick at this point, and it made me really worry. She hadn’t eaten much, just a few bites of stew, hadn’t drunk any water, gone to the bathroom, or had any real sleep in over 19 hours. Plus being in the car which she hates, in sudden, inexplicable bizarre circumstances. So yeah, she looked pretty bad too.
I used the restroom, and saw that I looked like shit. Oh well, what can I do. Tom was the only one of us who looked good. :) It was nice to get my hands on some soap though and clean out my nails and get my hands feeling clean. Went back out and ordered a ham & melted cheese croissant breakfast sandwich thing and a coffee. Wound up receiving hash browns with it too. Guess they thought I ordered a combo. Could not believe I was actually eating this food, it had been a long time since I’d put crappy food in my system. I’d been eating so healthy for so long. I didn’t finish the entire sandwich. Would be cruel to do that to my body. :D
As we ate, I noticed out the windows how the town looked. Had a lot of piney looking trees going on, not sure what they were. So it had an air of “mountain town” going on, but without the mountains. I knew we’d risen in elevation along the way last night…the first time I’d experienced any real and true incline in elevation since moving to Florida, where everything is flat as a board. We hung out and ate and sipped coffee until after 8 a.m. When we were getting back into our cars, a clock tower struck 8 a.m., with that usual clock tower song. SUCH a small town thing, which to me is creepy. I don’t like it! I don’t like small towns!!! I wanted to get the hell out of there and press forward. It turns out that this place was called Lake City or something.
We had to make a decision about where we were going to head at this point. Were we going to head west on the 10 freeway into Alabama, as originally intended, or keep moving northwards on the 41, into the depths of Georgia? To me, Georgia felt right. We were both stressed and frazzled at the mere thought of the 10, because it would probably be wall-to-wall traffic or at least heavy traffic with patches of slow and go, as it seemed that everybody else was trying to leave the state as well. I mean, where would they go? Obviously, on the 75…to the 10. There were no other safe options. So, we decided Georgia. Again, intuition-wise, it felt right to keep on this road we were on. But the thought of going to Georgia into uncharted territory, making it up as we went along and breaking from my original plan made me stressed. I again had thoughts about what am I doing?!? My apartment!! My job!! You’re heading further and further away when you should never have left! Nothing bad is going to happen to Fort Lauderdale, you jumped the gun and now you’ve done a stupid thing!! Ahhhh!!! So, my logical mind conflicting with my intuition. I overrode logic and we hit the road, towards Georgia.
Onwards and upwards we went. At this point we were on the 41, rather than the 441. The day had finally truly broken, and was cloudy and gray, as we made our way into what became the most backwards Podunk towns I’d ever seen in my life (!) north of Gainesville in the last remaining bit of Florida before Georgia. Lopsided weather beaten shacks and broken down cars in lawns, along with junk and debris everywhere, general stores and old ass buildings that were probably built in the 1800s with their Victorian and gingerbread style architecture, wrap around porches and swings that hung crooked on the porches. It looked like the land that time forgot. I could not believe it was 2004 as we wound our way through these rural little towns surrounded by those strange trees. I put in my Muddy Waters CD at this point because that kind of music just fit SO incredibly well. The simple bare bones slide guitar and harmonica, and the voice of Muddy was just so perfectly matched! You could imagine someone sitting around on one of these sagging porches or in one of these debris strewn yards with their guitar or harmonica, singing this music. I put my radio up to the speaker and grinned as I pushed the button down so Tom could hear. He smiled and said that it fit perfectly. I also put in my Elvis CD with all his early songs from the 50’s.
This was the most southern looking scenery I had ever seen. I knew this stuff existed, I’d seen it in movies or read about it, I’d just never had an opportunity to actually see it. Hard to believe these places exist in the same state that harbors Miami, Fort Lauderdale, Tampa, Orlando, St. Petersburg, The Keys, West Palm Beach, etc…
If I thought I was feeling anxious before, it was NOTHING compared to how these towns made me feel. TOTAL knots in my stomach. I was so uneasy.
We finally made it out of Florida, and into Georgia. Got gas at a Shell station on the outskirts of a town called Valdosta, and it was pump then pay. Not used to that one. We were also still keyed up and on edge about the gas situation we’d left behind in Florida….there was none, basically….so we were eying up the available pumps almost suspiciously and wearily, thinking “It can’t be, it’s too good to be true…they actually have gas here…!” We continued down the road and reached what the local cashier at the gas station had referred to as “downtown” Valdosta. It was the most sad, bizarre looking city I’d seen in a long time. It was all industrial looking with old mill looking factory buildings, huge 1800’s buildings and big old 1800’s looking worn out houses, nothing truly modern going on, despite the high amounts of traffic. It just looked totally run down and weather beaten. Absolutely NO economy going on in this town. In a way it reminded me of Norwich and Taftville Connecticut, which are also 1800’s industrial mill towns, but Norwich and Taftville look way better than Valdosta, I mean, there’s NO comparison, and there are modern buildings in Norwich. We stopped and checked for availability at three weirdo looking run down motels in Valdosta, to no avail. I was back in frustrated stress mode, ranting about how there was probably no motel availability for hundreds of miles around Orlando and that everybody had beaten us to it because they’d left earlier, blah blah blah, rant rant rant. Finally I shut up and was like, We have no choice, we have to keep going, no use in me standing around bitching. That’s not going to fix the problem. The situation is what it is, just deal.
We traveled onwards. Leaving Voldosta, we decided to try the 75 again. It was clear by now. Once back on the 75 again, we saw a huge fleet of electricity/utility trucks making their way south, into Florida. I radioed Tom. He already knew what I was going to say. We were glad to be going the other direction.
After awhile I started fuming to myself about how we couldn’t land ourselves a motel room to save our life, and how all the other people who got one did so because they either got there before us, or were able to call in ahead of time and reserve rooms on their credit cards. Fucking rich people!! I fumed. With their cell phones and credit cards! Gives them the advantage over the rest of us! I hate them!!! We don’t stand a chance!!! [It’s funny how years later, I’m one of those supposed “rich people,” with the credit card, cell phone, and the whole deal. ;D ]
Wait…I have my Super 8 and Motel 6 guides right here next to me…Tom did have a cell phone and a debit credit card thing. And we have two way radios. I could give him numbers of Super 8’s to call over my radio and he could book a room using his card. !! We CAN do this!! Woohoo!!
So, that’s what we did. Every Super 8 in the first 4 major towns in Georgia along the 75 were all booked up solid. Not one room available. I almost didn’t bother giving him the fifth number to a town called Cordele, but what the hell, why not I decided, not believing they would have anything. I had no hope, until Tom radio’d me back telling me they DID have a room. WOOHOO!!! I told him to call them back and book it! Book it now! We were going to get a room! The price was under $50, and it was ready now. We could check in whenever we wanted. So there’d be no “wait until check in time after 3 p.m.” crap. I couldn’t believe our luck. Cordele was only about an hour away from where we were, so there was a light at the end of the tunnel. It was absolutely AWESOME knowing that by 12:30 we’d be checking into a room, and Kitty could finally go to the bathroom and eat, and we could shower and rest!
After we had a room lined up, it changed the entire vibe of the trip. A burden had been lifted, and coincidentally, the sun was actually coming out at the same time. It was nice and warm, and we could just sit back and enjoy the scenery as we passed through all these tiny little Georgia towns. Winding our way on the 41 we passed by cotton fields…..a first for me…..and rural scenery. The land had red dirt, which I’d never seen before except for the deserts of the southwest. Tom told me that there was red dirt all the way up to Virginia. When I saw a Confederate flag on a stick, waving in the breeze of a cotton field, my eyes bugged out. o_O It really was the land that time forgot!
We arrived at our Super 8 in Cordele after 12:30, coming into town via the “back entrance.” At first I thought this WAS the town…all we saw as we cruised into Cordele via the 41 were old brick buildings, and weary old shops that had long since closed, train tracks, and not much else. I couldn’t believe people lived in towns like this nowadays. Where was the progress??? Come to find out later that this was basically the back end of town, the old original core section, of which modern buildings and plazas had been built around.
We stayed in Cordele for one night, smuggling Kitty in past the motel keeper who was this funny looking little old man with huge glasses and major B.O. He was nice…just odd. It was a relief to get a room, that’s for sure, although the room was old and disappointing. No amenities. All we cared about though was a shower. And we needed sleep, and I needed A/C. And most importantly, my cat needed to be able to go to the bathroom and eat. She had refused to do either in the past 24 hours. So all that, we got.
As far as the town itself went, there was nothing really going on. We ate at a Shoney’s restaurant, getting the buffet. First time ever at a Shoney’s for me. Shoneys, and buffets, would soon become the theme of the trip. ;) At the Shoney’s cashier counter they had the local high school football team schedules that people could take. Another small town quirk. We also had a chance to glimpse the latest news on Frances on a TV that was playing in the restaurant. There was a newscaster standing on a beach in West Palm Beach, as heavy winds and some rain blew him around, and we saw the ominous radar images that showed Frances’ eye just some 50 miles offshore of West Palm Beach. It was a massive hurricane just slowly churn churn churning offshore, very slowly. I knew it. It was going to make landfall in WPB, just like I’d predicted a week ago. I felt depressed for whatever was in store for that area.
The next morning was our “make it or break it” decision for what we were doing in life. Were we going to hang out in Georgia another day or two while Frances did her thing, then head back down to Florida for the aftermath, going back to work and life as we knew it? Or were we actually going to move to Virginia, and just do it now, seven months ahead of schedule, and go all the way?? It was a major fork in the road moment. In the back of our minds though we knew the entire time what we were going to do. We discussed it while packing up the apartment back in Ft. Lauderdale. We knew it when we were stuck in that traffic jam from hell on the turnpike, crawling along at 5 mph. We knew it as we wound our way up and down hills and around corners of the 41 traveling through the small towns in Georgia, seeing life outside of Florida. We already knew, now it was just a matter of officially proclaiming it outloud, then doing it. After we ate our lunch at a Wendy’s, looking at a map, we decided. Let’s just do it, let’s go to Virginia. Going back south just seemed so wrong and out of the question. There was nothing there for either of us. I hated my job, had begun to dislike the area, hated the weather, and was fed up with the people. There was nothing for Tom either, no jobs, no nature, nothing he wanted. All we could do was press forward. There was no going back.
Since we were heading north now, and had officially made the decision, next stop would be Charlotte, North Carolina.
This time when we got back on the road we used the 75, since there was no more traffic heading north now. We cruised around Macon on the 275, and passed through the heart of Atlanta. Tom noticed that Atlanta had interesting street names like “Druid Hill” and “Zion” and other Illuminati-esque sort of name. We stopped for gas, snacks and the restroom a little while later at a Shell in some small town.
The gas station cashier dude looked curiously at my purple pepper spray container hanging from my key chain and asked about it. I answered him truthfully,
“It’s tear gas/pepper spray that I bought from an Army Navy store in Florida.”
He looked at me like Wow. Huh. Like I was weird.
He obviously had never been to Fort Lauderdale. ;) The only time in my life I had ever been physically touched in an accosting sort of way by dudes was in Fort Lauderdale, at a LaundroMax near Sistrunk Boulevard. (Those two words in itself say it all. “Sistrunk Boulevard.” There you go.) I’d lived in SoCal for ten years…hanging around the train tracks in Commerce, South Central, by myself in the middle of the night…and had never had one problem to that level. Not one. Then I get to South Florida. Then it became time to buy my tear gas pepper spray. And in this small, quiet rural town of South Carolina it seemed like an odd thing, but, that’s Florida for you. If you haven’t lived in a high crime urban area like that where there’s a lot of poverty and drugs, what can I say.
Then it was onwards up into South Carolina. Cut straight up through the west side of South Carolina and got to see the state for the first time. It looked pretty interesting, it’s always fun seeing new states for the first time. There was a big lake at the border of Georgia and SC, more red dirt too. Things began to get hilly on the highway in South Carolina, a lot of up and down. I asked Tom if this is what Virginia looked like….he said it was actually even hillier. After being in flat Florida for several years, I was really digging the hills, and looking forward to any kind of mountain type situation again, and I know Tom was too.
By late afternoon we’d reached North Carolina, and it was funny, but literally the moment we hit the North Carolina state line, the terrain got mountain-y, with steep hills and nothing but green on either side of the highway. It was just so green, exactly as I’d always imagined it would be. There was a clear cut difference between SC and NC as far as I could tell from the highway.
We reached Charlotte and pulled off the highway into a Shell gas station to look at the map and figure out where to go. We were on Sugar Creek Road. We’d passed by a few apartment complexes before stopping and I couldn’t believe how NICE everything was. Clean, new, freshly painted, beautifully landscaped, so many trees. The place definitely looked like it had money and was economically sound, that’s for sure, and was exactly like I’d imaged it would be, based on what I’d read. I kept it in mind as a backup option in the event that Virginia didn’t pan out for some reason.
When we were at the gas station looking at a map, a little girl came skipping over and asked us for a dollar. Tom and I looked at each other quizzically, then looked around for her mom. We saw her mom hovering off in the distance, shooting us a smile. We made confused looks and Tom gave her a buck. The mom called out “Thank you!!” multiple times to us.
?? Okay. Weird. Who knows, and we didn’t ask.
We decided to check into a Super 8 nearby, and they had rooms.
The only problem was….the clerk assigned us the room 141. We were like, “!!!!” Surprised “holy shit!!” faces. I couldn’t believe this. It was whacked. It was so FLAGRANT, like the time I got room 119 in California before moving to Florida. [I documented this in my number sightings section.]
And so we trudged to our new room…..141…..feeling very strange about the whole thing. I mean, what does THAT mean, having room #141??! Does this mean the whole trip is cursed, or what??
We stayed at the Super 8 in Charlotte for two days total. We were able to sneak the cat in with no problem or issues…….although I came to find out later on that pets are not allowed in motel rooms according to North Carolina state law. !! Well then!
Frances wound up popping West Palm Beach, Florida on September 4th, while we were in Charlotte, in room 141, and while my mileage odometer was at 141,000 miles. O.o The Weather Channel had 24 hour coverage of the hurricane and had reporters situated right there in WPB, reporting live in the middle of it all. It wound up hitting as a Category 2, with winds of 105 mph, down from the anticipated Category 4 of Charley, from three weeks earlier. The winds were most significant just northwest of the eye wall, in Vero Beach and Fort Pierce, as well as Orlando…..the exact areas where we first got stuck in traffic, and where my car tried to overheat on me. My dream, of being stuck between a hurricane and a fire. ;) Like any hurricane, Frances caused flooding, downed trees, roof damages, bent signs, and power outages to approximately 3 million people, but that was about all, surprisingly. It could have been a lot worse. The T.V. only focused coverage on West Palm Beach and Orlando, and showed pretty much nothing about Fort Lauderdale or Miami, even though the satellite weather map showed rain bands sweeping over that area. I saw one brief, fleeting image of Dania Beach, which is just south of Fort Lauderdale, with powerful looking wind and rain and palm trees blown amok. I’m pretty positive I heard them say something about winds in Dania Beach being 90 mph, which would have been the same situation for Fort Lauderdale as well.
Frances didn’t just blow through in a few hours though like a normal hurricane. It parked itself right over Florida and just stayed there. Churn, churn, churning, for hours and hours and hours. It was creepy to see the radar images on t.v. or this massive hurricane parked over the entire state of Florida, and just sitting there like that. South Florida had to deal with the relentless wind and rain for over 16 hours. That’s what ended up causing the majority of damage, the relentless wind pummeling roofs and signs and trees for such a long time.
So, we would have been “fine” had we stayed in Florida, but, yeah, there would have been no electricity…which means no A/C, not even a fan in 95+ degree heat with 100% humidity……no drinkable tap water, flooded out roads, debris everywhere, no gasoline at any gas station in south Florida practically, and no basic items at the convenience stores like ice, etc. Just a negative vibe, relentless heat and suffering and discomfort in general. And especially for my cat. And for what?? Nothing. And that’s not even counting the reverse exodus, with all the evacuees heading back south again, going home. It would be the same situation we experienced trying to get out……only, in reverse. (And that’s in fact what we saw on t.v….miles of cars as far as the eye could see stuck in a massive traffic jam, trying to get back home.) So, we were still glad we left. Still a good decision. It was our open door opportunity. ( Note: Three weeks later, Hurricane Jeannie which was heading east, out to sea, inexplicably did a loopy 180…….and barelled straight back for Florida, making landfall in the same exact spot as Frances. Now what are the odds on that. I knew that one too though, as I looked at satellite images of Jeannie on the ‘net. I felt/knew it was going to turn around and hit them, and hit them in the same spot. And it did. So, back-to-back hurricanes, keeping everybody without electricity, A/C, ice, gasoline, and running low on supplies. For weeks on end. In a crime ridden urban tropical area. Not a good situation, and even more reason why we’re glad we bailed out when we did.)
During the two days we were in Charlotte our time in the motel room consisted mostly of alternating between the Weather Channel for Frances reports, and MTV’s the Real World San Diego. Yes, I know. ;) They were showing every episode of TRW San Diego back to back, and I hate to admit it, but I couldn’t tear myself away. The kids were so obnoxious and immature and shallow, just so incredibly stupid, that I couldn’t stop watching. It’s the show you love to hate. It’s fun to watch it and get annoyed. We don’t own a TV and never watch it, so coming into contact with TV was a novel thing. Saw part of an episode of “Fear Factor” as well. Promptly changed the channel when people on it were about to drink a large cup of blended maggots. I nearly got sick watching them blend up the live maggots. Had no idea they were going to do that until all of a sudden the dude….just did that. It was quite shocking. I wasn’t prepared. Had I known, I wouldn’t have looked. Welcome to TV, 2004.
We checked out and hit the highway once more after two days. Next stop…..Charlottesville, Virginia. !! It’s a day drive, basically, eight hours or less, depending on how fast you drive. The drive itself was on the edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, as we climbed up and down mini-mountain hills. It was AWESOME to see those mountain hills after time spent in flat as a board Florida. It rained off and on throughout the day. When we crossed the border into Virginia we pulled over at the Visitor’s Center surrounded by green mountains to use the restrooms and get free brochures, maps and information. Continued north through the big green foresty hills. We landed in Charlottesville by late afternoon, finding it gray and rainy and slightly chilly. I was still dressed for Florida, with short shorts and a little T-shirt. Would have to start making some wardrobe adjustments! We were no longer in a place where it’s over 95 degrees every day with 100% humidity…the way it had been in Fort Lauderdale nearly every day of August 2004.
Tom took me on a tour of the town, having me follow behind him in my car as we wound our way up and down and around the town streets, seeing the brick buildings, the University of Virginia, and everything else. It was smaller than I expected, but it looked nice. I mentally noted………..where are the downtown skyscrapers?? Made me worry about getting admin work if they didn’t have office buildings. But, I decided to remain neutral and void of any decision making processes until it was sunny and clear out, and I had a chance to see more of the area. [Funny enough I’d wind up working directly for THE most powerful, Big Cheeses in Charlottesville as their admin assistant only a few years later, the top of the absolute top…….job-wise there’s truly no higher you can rise, it was the absolute peak…….] Overall though, my intuition was calm. I had no bad feelings, unlike when I first rolled into Portland, Oregon and my stomach immediately clenched into anxious knots for no apparent reason. So the fact that my intuition was calm made my logical thinking brain calm. A positive feedback loop, versus a negative one.
We stopped for gas at a Shell gas station that was designed to look like a home with a front porch. I’d never seen that set up before. It was also pump and then pay. Not pay and then pump. When I tried handing the guy money so I could pump, the cashier looked confused and didn’t know what I was doing. haha Wound up heading off to the Super 8, and got there before 6:30 and checked in without issue. Snuck the cat in, and had room 301 on the third floor. It wasn’t quite as nice as the NC room, but it was better than the Georgia room.
*****
And this is where I’ll cut in and cut things off. People who’ve read my piece about Portland, Oregon and its strange and negative vibes have asked me if I’ve encountered a place that felt really super positive. You know, the opposite. And to that I have to give a huge YES. Charlottesville wound up being the place for us. It had THE best vibe of any place I have been to in years and years. It really hit me during our first few days in town, while we were staying at the motel, making plans. I couldn’t believe how positive and good and light things felt here.
What’s interesting is that the local (free) metaphysical newspaper, The Echo, did a story regarding the energy vortices around Charlottesville…including the two that are supposedly located on the University of Virginia campus, founded by Thomas Jefferson. Jefferson constructed a large Rotunda right on top of what has been determined by some people to be one of the local energy points. Coincidence? ;) Charlottesville and the surrounding area has also become a hub of sorts for the New Age/metaphysical community, with Hampton Roads Publishing and the Monroe Institute located here. So, it’s all very interesting indeed. I’m just glad to be here, although I do miss the beaches of Florida. There was nothing quite like snorkeling in crystal clear, bathwater warm, blue green water, swimming amongst the schools of fish and snagging shells from the whitish, wavy sand below. :)
Three weeks to the day after Frances made landfall in West Palm Beach, hurricane Jeanne made landfall in the same spot, after doing a complete turnaround in the Caribbean and heading back to Florida. Then, a year after we left Florida, Fort Lauderdale was directly hit – the first time since 1955 – by hurricane Katrina. It made landfall in Fort Lauderdale, before passing over Florida, into the Gulf, and on towards New Orleans. The rest, everybody knows. Reports said that windows were blown out of the buildings in downtown Fort Lauderdale, lots of trees and power lines were down, flooding, and of course, they were without power, drinkable tap water, gasoline, ice, and all the rest. Frequent hits by powerful hurricanes may be the norm there from now on, if 2004 and 2005 were any indicator of how things may go in the future. So in the end, it was the right decision for us to leave.
What concerns me is this country’s lack of proper evacuation preparation. What we went through in trying to get out of Florida on the turnpike was near identical to what people encountered when trying to evacuate New Orleans – the 10 freeway was ground to a halt, and nobody was moving. We saw images of cars parked on the 10 for as far as the eye can see, and people getting out of their cars, walking around, visiting with other cars and pacing along the side of the roadway. How long did it take before the Powers That Be closed the 10 east to all incoming traffic and allowed evacuees to use all lanes to get out of New Orleans?! Too long. They should have done that right from the beginning.
In these evacuation situations, all roads should be opened, and the break down lane should absolutely be an option when things are grinding to a halt. The problem is, we live in a society that has been so programmed with rules, laws, authority, regulations and the threat of fines, and even jail, that people will obey the “laws of the road”……even when it’s not practical, and actually jeopardizes the lives of others. !! It’s unbelievable. People can no longer think.
“Super hurricane” evacuation situations could wind up being the norm from now on, and it’s concerning. My story is fun and light hearted, but if you’re somebody who lives in hurricane country, possibly take a minute to think about preparing. In our evacuation, my intuition and psychic skillz kicked in, and Tom was “guided” to tune into the radio at just the right moment to glean the exact bit of information that changed the entire outcome for how our situation went. So it’s not just about physical preparation and focusing on stocking up on supplies, or planning your evacuation route….it’s about tuning into your intuition as well. Listen to what it’s telling you. Is it telling you to LEAVE, NOW! despite whatever people around you may be saying? If so, then listen to that. Is it trying to guide you so you’ll be in the right place at the right time, within the proper timing of things? If so, then free yourself up and go with where you’re being guided. Try not to lock up and shut out intuition in lieu of the intellect. Too often people second guess themselves, or they cave in to what those around them are saying, only to experience the detrimental outcome of that.
There’s also the other, human aspect of it all, and watching what happens when people are thrown into a crisis situation. One can run the gamut of emotions – panic, stress, anxiety, anger, frustration, hostility – maybe nonchalance, numbed indifference, and mentally shutting off – as it becomes a competition for space and resources. I saw how people on the road became “all about themselves”, and desperately tried to police those around them in an effort to either preserve their own outcome or just purely to be an asshole. “If I’m going down, then you are too, pal!” It was crazy. Tom and I just wanted to get out, with my handicapped car intact and in one piece. We weren’t interested in stomping down everybody around us in order to guarantee our own success. Our plan was to slip through the cracks…use the breakdown lane. It didn’t hurt anybody else to do that, but, people weren’t thinking logically.
I was compelled to post this document today, which has been sitting on our computer since 2004. Possibly it’s because Hurricane Season starts in two months, so, maybe someone somewhere will get something from reading it.
c. 2006
Carissa Conti