I embarked nearly alone on a Friday morning. One week before Christmas with a car packed tighter than anticipated and my dog, I left for the long drive from Brooklyn, NY to Galveston, TX. The intention up until the night before was slightly different.
Our intention with getting a car in New York rather than in Texas, was so that Lauren, Bear, Walter, and I could make the journey together. We assumed a need to maximize available space, so I purchased a soft top carrier and a bike rack. The reality of our spatial needs, however, was well beyond our imaginings. Within the first attempt to load the car up, I was left with the reality that I had filled the whole of the top carrier and trunk, with only half of what we had to take.
We were out of time and the plan was clearly flawed and needed to be changed. So, we adjusted.
In the final moments, before leaving it was decided that Lauren and Bear would fly ahead the next morning. She would be able to take a couple of the bigger items, like the stroller and car seat with her, not only freeing up space from those things but allowing me to flip half of the back seat down, gaining us more valuable space in the car. Since we were going to be staying an additional night, it also meant I had an opportunity to take a few more things to our storage unit before we left.
This would mean that I would be driving with just our dog, alone, for nearly 2000 miles. But it gave us a chance.
The long way around
The next morning, I took Lauren and a sleeping Bear to the airport. The departure was quick, at least from my point of view. They would fly to Nashville, TN, where I would meet up with them, before they ultimately would meet me in Austin, TX. There we would spend Christmas before completing the drive together (somehow) to Galveston, TX.
After the airport, I moved more of our things down to our storage unit in southern Brooklyn. Next, I repacked the car, with barely an inch of space left. Added the dog with his bed, into a small corner of the back seat. Said goodbye to our empty apartment. We were homeless, and by 12 pm I was off.
See you later Brooklyn.
As I crossed the Staten Island bridge, it was unseasonably warm. It was 55 degrees Fahrenheit, near the end of December, and I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. My plan was to drive all the way to Tennessee in one shot. I estimated that with doggie and human breaks, it would likely take until 4-5 am before I would get there, but that was okay. I’d rather have the extra downtime in between legs of the trip, than to sleep.
The choice wasn’t mine to make
Pennsylvania seemed to take forever to cross. When I finally did make it to West Virginia, the weather took a turn for the worst. For the previous few hours, I had seen small flurries of snow here and there. It was so light I assumed it was melting before it even hit the ground. As I crossed the border the story changed, as the roads became treacherous.
It was dark at this point, nearly 8 pm. After a few missed exits and a few more breaks than I had anticipated, I was running further behind schedule than anticipated. By the time I was starting to go through the mountains of West Virginia, I could feel the car slipping on the road.
My speed started to dip down from the 75-80 mph that I had been driving before, to a terrified 20-30 mph. The roads were covered in a thin layer of white and traffic was proceeding in a caravan of unsettled travelers. Any fear of falling asleep while driving was gone at this point as the combination of Starbucks coffee and adrenalin from my white-knuckled drive was more than enough to keep me going.
It was becoming clear that I had two options in front of me. Either keep white knuckling it at a crawl and perhaps end up in a ditch in the middle of nowhere or stop at a hotel and call it a night. I chose to cut my losses and opt for a warm night’s sleep.
The next morning
The sun was already doing its work as Walter and I embarked once again. Though the roads started a little dicey, within an hour or two I was far enough south that roads cleared completely.
West Virginia went on for longer than I expected before I finally made it to Kentucky. While the initial intent was to stop at Lauren’s grandparents for a couple of nights in Clarksville, TN, a combination of lost time and the realization that I should probably take the next leg to Austin, TX a tad slower sunk in. As such, when I was told to stop at her other grandparents in Bowling Green, KY. I took it as a blessing that I would get to the stopover that much sooner.
One night in Bowling Green meant happy times for a pent up puppy in the back seat. He got to run around a bit, jump all over some family members, and lick a very happy and mostly smiling baby, before ultimately landing back in the car another 24-hours later.
The road between Bowling Green, KY, and Austin, TX was luckily uneventful. The plan was to make it to Texarkana, Arkansas by nightfall, before ultimately stopping for the night. This meant having only 5-hours of driving left, but it also meant not showing up at somewhere between 3-4 am, and messing with my still undamaged sleep schedule. The reward was definitely worth the small price of the somewhat sketchy Motel 6 that we stashed ourselves in.
One thing that I had always heard but never really understood was how empty the drive through northern Texas could be. From Texarkana to Dallas, the road was almost a blank slate. A canvas someone forgot to finish painting. Brownish green and flat, and missing that all-important element that gives it emotional purpose. Maybe Dallas itself was that purpose, as for as flat and boring the previous 3-hours of driving had been, the eastern approach for Dallas was quite spectacular.
Looming in the west as I drove across the causeway across a small lake, it was perhaps the most impressive entrance into a city that I had seen in my whole trip. New York City itself really only rivals it because of its immensity and the amazing skyline. Dallas, however, seemed like a transition from pointlessness to vibrancy. Something that seemed missing throughout the rest of my trip.
The rest of the trip to Austin, TX was uneventful. We eventually landed in my parents driveway. Unpacked the car, unwound, and awaited the arrival of my better 3/4 later in the evening.
The plan from that point was to spend a few days with my family, work from coffee shops, have some Christmas fun, before ultimately packing the car again and finishing the final leg of our journey to Galveston, TX.
Luckily for the final leg, we had some relief in the baggage department, as Lauren’s sister was making a similar journey home a couple of days before and was able to take some of our things with her. This meant that the car, just barely, had enough room for all of our things, leaving the backseat for mommy, baby, and doggie, while I drove the final 4-hour stretch east across Texas.
In the end, we’re temporarily transplanted
Homeless, but with family in the most positive and purposeful way. We’ll eventually land back in NYC, most likely in Park Slope, Brooklyn. Until then, the plan is to allow our families to spend as much time as possible with our son, save some money along the way, and eventually travel for a large part of 2016.
It is hard having given up a piece of our independence. To once again be living with family. To not get to wake up to the city we love. However, the opportunity that we have before us is an amazing one and in 10-years, I know we’ll be happy we made this decision.
For now, our lives will be filled with beaches, biking, and running along hopefully warm beaches throughout what might be a very cold winter for our normal home. I can’t say that I’m sad about this one facet of our journey. I’m, in fact, incredibly grateful for this opportunity to share our son in his formative years and to experience a different side of life for a little while.
The road to get here was a long one. Where it leads in the long term I cannot fully say. I do know that it will steel us in our resolve for the life we choose for ourselves.
2016 is going to be an amazing year.