Day 9 - Hit That Road

Car day finally came. After two Amtrak journeys, one of which involved a severe delay coming into Penn Station New York, we were buzzing like bees, high on honey, rubbing our proverbial feelers together at the prospect of piloting our own lad-mobile. Jannick and I joined Matt for breakfast, chowing down on bagel number five of our trip (we're fast discovering that these things are everywhere – ‘What’s not to love?’ says friend JD), after which we made our way to Union Station for the final time. The car rental process was fairly painless, although requiring a small trek up into the alpine car park to retrieve our vehicle.

Arriving at the floor, we quickly scanned the area for a sight of our potential chariot. The man took our papers and walked towards a beautiful red Volkswagen Jetta, and gestured towards it. Ecstatic at the thought of a red stallion, we bundled towards him, our baggage doing its best to hold us back. ‘The brown one,’ he said, as we looked towards the parked car, which hid behind it our new baby, a salted caramel Kia Forte. Cherry red bubble burst, we wiped away our tears and immediately fell in love with Old Molasses. Roomy and equipped with auxiliary cable plug-in (hello Don Mclean sing alongs), the car was perfect.

The beast

Jannick drove us out of D.C. and we head out onto the open road. Sort of. We stopped at a nearby shopping centre to pick up some fruit, a map and a ball toy. No map, three apples, and a Nerf Vortex Aero Howler later, we got out onto the highway. I drove us toward Front Royal, Virginia, where we would be heading south along the Skyline Drive, through Shenandoah National Park.

The scenery was suitably stunning. The winding ridge roads provided stimulating driving, despite the 35mph speed limit. We took occasional and arbitrary stops at the outlooks to have the obligatory Kodak moment. It was a leisurely drive, a great way to warm up Old Molasses’ tyres and our own driving chops. Jan is an experienced driver and so took little time to get into his stride. I, like a fledgling coot, took some time paddling in the shallows, but was soon enjoying cruise control like I was taming a reckless bronco. 

Before setting off down the forest trail, we had topped up on petrol, which proved a more complex routine than we were used to. America’s obsession with pre-pay/save on effort had generated a machine that our cards were physically allergic to. Two failed attempts incorrectly informing us to ‘Call Car Issuer’ forced us inside to do the prepay. The already laborious system had its final victory in the quest to frustrate when the prepaid amount of $20 exceeded our estimates by $8. Going back in again, we finally emerged with correct receipt in hand and went on our way.

Finally cruising into Charlottesville, Virginia after six and a half hours and 220 miles, we were jubilant to find the Promised Land of Super 8 motel. Our beds were spacious, the TV was massive, and breakfast was included. Some down time later, we went out for dinner, after Jannick made what would become an inspired decision in choosing a local teppanyaki restaurant for dinner. Chicken and steak combo meal for $13.99? We needed no more browsing. The chef was a lively and boisterous man, juggling eggs on his knife like a true showman. Unsurprisingly, he cooked a meal for the two of us that would have fed four, and so, weighed down by a metric ton of chicken, steak, rice and vegetables, we emerged from the establishment happily replenished. A cupcake and an apple for lunch had barely taken us to 7pm. We crashed out and slept a glorious eight hours, keen to roll some rims the following morning. Onto Morristown!