Thursday morning Amey and I stumbled out of our slumber around 10. Casey phoned us just as we finished our morning routine and prepared to disembark from her apartment.
Around 11 we rolled up to the Swan office, and discussed the reality of our roadtrip with Swan. It had become apparent to me and Amey that a 5400 mile drive is insane, and had opted to enjoy some time visiting authentic America. The opportunity to spend nearly two weeks doing all of those things our itineraries had previously denied was too good to pass up. We also shared with Swan our intention of logging our journey in this format. After reminiscing on how much fun our last trip as a group was, Amey and I departed for Jiffy Lube.
We were greeted like visiting royalty by the Jiffy Lube staff. Within 90 seconds of pulling in the parking lot my car was being worked on and I was providing the final details for our work order. I was offered additional services in a well choreographed attempt at an upsell, and declined. It wasn't until just before my service was complete that I discovered a corporate inspection in progress. As an added bonus we caught a glimpse of an old Boston and Maine steam locomotive on the way to the interstate.
The afternoon trek to Pennsylvania was leisurely and scenic as we passed through the vibrant hardwood forests of central Connecticut and the Hudson River valley of New York. More fun with Boston drivers -- as I merged onto the interstate the driver of the vehicle behind us removed both hands from the wheel and waved them around as if he were trying to fend off stinging bees while making crazed expressions with his face. Although I must admit Boston drivers generally stay out of your way if you stay out of their way. We discovered that some rural Penn. drivers go 52 everywhere, in every lane, which turns into a slow-moving parade of frustrated drivers on the highway.
We found a great deal on a hotel in Lebanon, PA, just outside of Amish country. After checking in, we toasted to a great second leg of driving with Dairy Queen, red wine, and some sitcoms.
One final note: truck stops are the gathering place for a uniquely American subculture. Those in transition meet with truckers in an other-worldly dispensary of greasy food, novelties, dvds, vehicle enhancements, lounges, showers, and books on tape. I get my gas exclusively from truck stops while travelling. I generally pay less per gallon for fuel, and I get to see, hear, and taste things that provide spice to an otherwise mundane drive. On this leg we accidentally wandered into the showers whilst looking for the bathrooms, and scored gobstoppers for 49 cents.
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