I’m looking out the windshield at six lanes of traffic and
my fingers squeeze the steering wheel like a vice grip. My heart is doing double time and I
feel sweat begin to drip down my back.
I am trying to navigate through what feels like the busiest
freeway in the world. It is
actually a very typical highway and something I should be used to. The difference is that it is the I-5
going through Seattle Washington.
And it’s at rush hour. And
I’m driving my sister’s Jeep, which feels like a tanker truck compared to my
little car.
I glance around at my three sisters and mentally raise my
eyebrows at them. They have placed
their faith in me to take the helm and by default are placing their lives in my
hands. I must be doing an okay
job, because this is not my first time at the wheel during this trip. They have not balked at the idea of
their youngest sibling sitting in the drivers seat.
We are on the second-last leg of a much anticipated road
trip through the northwestern United States. And although I’ve been driving for a while, the unfamiliar
road and the shear volume of cars are unnerving. Drivers swerve around me with the familiarity that comes
from being a local.
Our goal is to find a hotel before it gets dark, but for
some reason our luck is not with us today. We search for the elusive accommodation signs, but we see
nothing, just endless miles of concrete and the constant rush of over-confident
drivers. Overpasses and exit lanes approach and recede and I feel like I’m in
the middle of a never-ending video game.
I’m surprised at the level of my anxiety. I wonder if it started with the drive
over the Astoria-Megler Bridge earlier in the day. The structure spans the Columbia River 200 feet above the water. The feeling of being suspended that
high over a large body of water with limited escape options put me on edge. While my sisters talked excitedly about the
view, I was envisioning a roller coaster’s first ascent before it hurtles
downward. It didn’t help my state
of mind to discover that they were also repairing this behemoth while letting
traffic on. As a prairie dweller,
I am not subject to these kinds of structures on a regular basis. The scariest situations I‘ve
encountered have been wondering wildlife and snow-covered roads.
Fortunately, the journey over the bridge did not last long.
The same feeling from the bridge accosts me now. Finally, we see signs for hotels and I
slowly navigate off the busy freeway.
But this road leads us into a labyrinth of residential streets that
threaten to swallow us slowly, like bugs in a Venus flytrap. We decide to use Natalie, the Jeep’s
satellite navigation system. We
give Natalie a different name every day due to her track record of leading us
into dead end roads and questionable neighborhoods.
I get the distinct feeling Natalie is evil and wants to lead
us astray. Visions of a horror
movie about a possessed car float briefly through my tired mind as we program
Natalie to bring us to the nearest Best Western. But my fears are unfounded. She appears to be in a better mood today.
We find the hotel but are turned away. No room at the inn, they say. Exhaustion creeps in as the sky
darkens. We may be sleeping in the
Jeep tonight, I think. Luckily, my
sister doesn’t seem fazed by fatigue and calls the Super 8 we see a few blocks
away. We snatch up the last
room. My smile fades though, when I
realize I will have to do one last bit of driving. Our hotel is on the other side of the freeway.
We ditch Natalie, as our confidence in her is still not up
to par. Besides I think, how hard
can it be to drive across an overpass?
I cruise through two green lights and follow a car in front
of us that is making a left hand turn into the hotel parking lot. Great, I think, seems like a
no-brainer. Like a sheep, I follow
it and turn on my signal, relieved to put an end to a long day of driving. Suddenly, I see the car’s reverse
lights pop on and they are backing up rather quickly, in short, jerky
movements. I take a moment to look
around and with a shock, realize we are in a right-turn lane on the wrong side
of the road. In the
inky-blackness, traffic lights and headlights blur my vision. Adrenalin takes over and I throw the
Jeep into reverse and hope for the best.
In seconds, we are back on the right side of the road and
turning into the correct entrance to the hotel.
I shift the Jeep into park and turn off the engine. We sit in silence for a moment before
one of us cracks a joke and we all erupt into laughter. All my stress drains away as we make
plans for a well-deserved supper. I
can’t imagine a better way to end the day.
