$0: Delaware (home)
I left Airstream HQ in Jackson Center, Oh at dawn as their tractors pulled the day’s patients out of the Terraport, and into the trailer equivalent of the Mayo Clinic. After a few hours driving, I emerged from the corn fields.
After enjoying the nation’s mostly-modern roadways with speed limits of 80, the West Virginia border feel like a time portal. The gas stations become more scarce. The ones that remain are cramped, barely-maintained, and offer a key on a stick if you need the restroom. I half-expected to see pumps selling ethyl (look it up, kids). What happened?
Pennsylvania was even worse.
Slapping a 65mph speed limit sign on a road designed in 1940 does not make it a superhighway. I applaud PA’s efforts to update sections of the turnpike, but you have a lot of work do.
And I refuse to be held hostage by their “Service Plazas”, with their zombie-like staff yet oddly futuristic pricing. Having learned my lesson by being burned numerous times, I did not stop for gas or food in PA.
But enough of me sounding like a grumpy old man. Staying true to my PA theme of “roads through time”, I got off the turnpike near Lancaster (Amish country) and dodged horse and buggies on my favorite back-roads to Wilmington, shaving off a few miles.
No photos of the filthy trailer, but of course I gave it a bath soon after I arrived (after I mowed the lawn and got the held mail).
In hindsight, I wish I could have lingered at some of the more scenic spots on the trip. Unfortunately, that realization usually comes just as a trip has ended. A pile of work awaits me at my day job.
Look for a “cross country by the numbers” post soon. What would you think a 3-week, 7,000-mile trip cost? Stay tuned.