The 1,100 mile journey from Wheatland, Wyoming to Hot Springs, Arkansas, according to Google Maps, was only supposed to take a little more than 17 hours. It had me driving partway through Nebraska and then heading down south. I wanted to avoid snow and freezing temperatures so I drove south through part of Colorado before heading east through Kansas. Knowing that I would not be able to drive the whole 17 hours without a break, I stopped at a Super 8 hotel in Goodland, Kansas. My room had a recliner, as well as a bed, so it appeared as though everything was going well.
I was back on the road by 7:30 am, believing that I would make it to Hot Springs by late afternoon. Certainly I would make it there before dark. When I reached Tulsa, Oklahoma; however, I must have missed a turn somewhere. I was trying to make my way to I-40. I took some smaller highways that looked on my map like they would still get me to my destination. I elected to take Highway 7 because it looked to be the most direct route. I learned later, that was a big mistake. By this time it was very late and very dark. I stopped and slept in my truck for a couple of hours near Fayetteville; then I drove -and drove and drove – for hours in the middle of the night on a narrow, twisting, curving road for miles and miles. The fact that most of the truckers were pulled over and sleeping, was my saving grace, because I could go very slow without worrying about being run off the road. I have night blindness and the road was barely visible, but for the white lines that kept me on it.
It turns out that Highway 7 cuts right through the mountains. Smarter people take I-40 to Little Rock, over-shooting Hot Springs by a little, and then backtrack to the west in order to avoid the mountains. Fortunately, I was coming in just behind a storm that dumped about 10 inches of snow in the area. Hot Springs normally has only 2” or 3” of snow in a year. I am sure that Highway 7 is a beautiful drive as long as you aren’t in a hurry, but I was dead tired and driving in the dark. I was not able to enjoy or to appreciate the beautiful scenery.
At long last, I arrived at my rented apartment at 6:15 am. I had been on the road for nearly 24 hours. The garbage collectors were already moving up and down the streets collecting trash. When I turned off my truck I heard, within minutes, the cheerful singing of a wren as though it was welcoming me to Arkansas. I wanted nothing more than to lay down on my bed and sleep, but I had to wait two hours for the landlord to come and let me in. The 17 hour drive turned out for me to be 43 hours (including the one short night in the hotel)!
Some people enjoy taking road trips. I am not one of them. Road trips, in my mind, are like automobiles. They are a necessary evil in our society, designed to get you from point A to point B. Whenever possible, I will choose walking or riding a bicycle over driving, until such time as I can learn to get around by apparating, which was the more sophisticated means of travel employed by Harry Potter. I am grateful to have arrived in Arkansas safe and sound; however, and quite happy that I did not need to travel by way of a covered wagon.
