Feeling Minneapolis

November 4, 2007 | Filed Under Uncategorized 

After six months of talking about moving. After the farewell party. After the marathon. After a lot of packing up, driving around dropping off donated goods, and throwing out a lot of old junk. After a second, improtu farewell party. After a final night at the Cat with Ward for a beer, I was so ready to get the fuck out of D.C.

It was 2am, Ward and I were sitting at the Cat having a beer, and I told him I might just go home, throw the rest of the stuff in my car and just start driving. I didnt want to sit around any longer. Ward said to me, “Go home, get some sleep and leave in the morning.”

I didnt want to hang around. I said I’d see how I felt when I got home. I still wanted to leave right away tho.

Finishing off my beer, I bid Ward farewell and walked home and in my room. It was 2:30 a.m. and as much as I wanted to leave, I was indeed tired. I fell asleep on my bed in 1317 R St. for the last time.

9 a.m. I woke up and started packing up my car. Cramming my stuff in every open nook and cranny of my car, I managed to fit everything with just room for me to spare. I hung my two bikes off the back trunk, squatted down to look at the rear tires.

My car was definitely hanging low in the back due to all my stuff, but there was still clearance. I was good to go. I punched in my parents home address on the GPS navigation and as soon as it had plotted out a route, I hit the road.

Making my way out of DC, I hit the rolling hills of northern Maryland. I drove on.

The Penna Turnpike came up. I kept on driving. A few text messages with a friend and I found myself in Ohio. I kept on driving.

A pit stop at an gas station, where an entirely too cute young man traveling with a church group kept making eye contact with me while serenading everyone present with his guitar. I smiled back. And I kept on driving.

I thought about the days and months to come while rolling away the miles in Indiana. And I kept on driving.

I fought off fatigue by admiring the scenery in Chicago while rocking along to 104.3 FM at maximum volume. I love you guys!

Kept on driving.

Leaving Chicago behind me, with the longest single-state leg ahead of me, I pulled over at 3 a.m. to give the Passat a break while I dozed off for a few hours.

I woke up bleary eyed at 5 a.m., got myself a sandwich from McDonalds and started driving again.

Some point past Eau Claire, the sun began to come up. The sky slowly brightened from black to dark blue and pink. Early morning fog evaporated off lakes and ponds along the highway. And in my best Yoda accent, drove on, I did.

Broaching the town lines of Hudson, the Mississippii valley containing its namesake river, demarcating the border between Wisconsin and Minnesota opened up beyond me and I would soon be home. I kept on driving.

Heading through the outer suburb of Woodbury, I soon reached St. Paul, and was starting to be in very familiar territority. This was the area I grew up in.

As much as things changed, it was all still very familiar. I drove on.

Left on Cretin-Vandalia Ave. As a teenage, I called it the stupid-van exit.

Right on Marshall Ave. I’d cross the Mississippii once more. Left on River Road. I’d ridden my bike on this road countless times when growing up. I’d explored the river banks along this road for hidden treasure when a kid.

Right on 35th. Left on 44th. I was soon in front of my house.

And seemingly on cue. My dad stepped out of the house with the dog, Biscuit. He saw me and waved.

20 hours and 1120 miles later, I was home.

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