The Journey North

 

Our trip begins Thursday, March 6. 

Karen takes Sadie to the Vet for boarding Thursday morning, she must drag her out of the car, heartbreaking  We all hate going to the doctor don't we?

After a quick trip to Camden we load the truck, turn the wipers on and head North about 1pm. We will not turn the wipers off until the next day in northern Virginia.

My friend Jim Taylor, a Pennsylvania native, has advised not take the route our GPS will recommend.  In the rush to leave I have left my printed map and now we must rely on the GPS.  Big mistake.  

Atlanta,  we hit town during rush hour and suffer though the afternoon congestion. One wasted hour on the books.

Its about 9pm and Charlotte is our stop for the night.  We are hungry, tired and irritable.  Several exits go by until we find a suitable place to stay for the night, an old Marriott Courtyard with a lumpy bed. 

The weatherman predicts an ice storm the next morning, he's right.

After a few hours of fitful sleep we head north pointed to Greensboro, Petersburg and Richmond.  Most of it at slow pace in the ice. Upon arrival in DC what Jim has recommended becomes even more apparent. Construction everywhere and traffic blocked for miles.  Making it worse are the many twists and turns the GPS cannot account for.  We are hopelessly lost.   Our drive now takes us through the bowels of Washington to get back on our route.  Two more wasted hours in the books.  They run our country from this place?  No wonder the Dems & Repubs hate each other.

Baltimore is another city to avoid  but we arrive during rush hour.   As our gas gauge creeps toward E we are stuck in a tunnel under Chesapeake Bay.   The low fuel light comes on and fuel is available at the next exit, the first in many miles.

Now we are on the home stretch to NYC.  After many toll booths the city lights appear.

 The GPS again becomes our best friend and worst enemy.  With so many quick turns the GPS is slow to react. A few missed turns later we motor over the Williamsburg Bridge to pick up Lindsey.  This city was not designed for Alabama boys and their pickups. The taxi drivers love their  horns and all want to send me back down South quickly.

Our hotel is a "boutique hotel" in Brooklyn near Lindsey's home.  Trip Advisor had high recommendations for The Box House Hotel, an old warehouse converted into a hotel.  Roomy, affordable(for NYC), friendly and charming.   The reclaimed wooden floors are beautiful.  We have done ourselves good here.

www.theboxhousehotel.com 

      

Today we are spending the day with Lindsey and her fav restaurants, no tourist traps allowed. The local weatherman is excited about a clear 48 degree day.  Your faithful scribe will report in later.