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      I love driving. But, I'm discovering that not everyone shares my passion for this highly independent form of traveling; as I told people about my plans for this trip they repeatedly got wide-eyed and said, "You're driving to Texas??" Yes, that's what I was doing: driving to Texas.
       Now, why would a level-headed college student like myself drive all the way to Texas? Several reasons, a short outline of which follows:
       #1. Because it's there. Yes, because it's there. It's no Mount Everest but it's an exciting place with many other exciting places between here and there.
       #2. The adventure. Me, my car, and plans to kick asphalt. In the words of Walt Whitman, "Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road/ Healthy, free, the world before me/ The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose."
       #3. $$$. Yes, I was getting paid. I will keep my financier anonymous by not giving her first and last names. But, let me tell you that I did not find it unremarkable that her name, legally, is Sunshine. So, I guess you could say I was doing it for Sunshine and that Sunshine's stuff came with me everywhere I went and that Sunshine did benefit me for my courageous traveling!
       #4. I wanted to see my family. I did so successfully - more about that below.
       Ok, that's enough about why I did it - nothing profound. I just love to travel and this worked out as a really great situation! Now, let's talk about how.
       It all started as I waited for the shuttle to take me from the Tenleytown metro stop back towards campus. I was with my friend Manuela when she pointed out a flyer that had been posted. Sunshine must have posted it - it said that she was moving from Washington, D.C. to Austin and needed her stuff hauled out there. I ripped one of the phone numbers off it and called the next day.
       Sunshine said she was thinking of paying $250 to have someone drive it to Texas. Now, I have been cross country a few times and I know what it costs to go on the road for a number of days. At that price I told her she's have to mail it. She asked me how much it would cost. And, since I am the Business Manager of a good size business and a responsible business person, I had already crunched the numbers. I named the price of $500. Then, after about a week of negotiating we settled on the price of...$500. Yes, I didn't get my job for nothing! (The trip, by the way, ended up costing me about $450 - luxuries, incidentals, and all. For details, see Ryan's Road Guide: Texas.)
       My planned date of departure was May 9, 2002. On that day I had already told Joe Franco, a good friend of mine, that I would drive him up to Bethesda, Maryland in the morning to pick up a rental truck for his own drive back home to Colorado. I gladly obliged Joe and we had a fun little adventure to get the truck and then got back here to my apartment...to start packing. You see, I had planned to do this the night before but then Joe and I decided to go out to a poker game instead. It was worth it as I left with double my money and then some, but it set me back a bit in time on my travels. I didn't leave DC until after 1 pm.
       I set off on Interstate 66 to connect to Interstate 81 which would bring me pretty near my destination for that night - Chatanooga, Tennessee. But, I thought that I could save time by cutting a corner between 66 and 81 and set out on some state roads that were more direct in their connection of the two interstates. While driving through the backwoods of Virginia and having a relatively pleasant time I met D. R. Corbin. Mr. Corbin was a very nice man who did quite an awful thing. Yes, Trooper Corbin wrote me a speeding ticket. (He was so nice that he actually apologized for writing the ticket. For you, Mr. Corbin, or any other state troopers out there - THAT DOESN'T HELP US ANY!)
       So, I'm two hours into an 8 day trip and I'm worried stiff about speeding. I slowed down a bit and did not make it to Chatanooga, where Uncle Nick - my grandfather's brother - lives with my Aunt Estelle, until nearly 1 am. I had spent more than 11 and a half hours on the road and driven 632.8 miles - a new personal mileage record!
       I had a great time in my time with Aunt Estelle and Uncle Nick. I stayed only a few hours there, leaving fairly early in the morning after a nice breakfast with them and my father's cousin, Linda.
       The following day's drive was a bit shorter and the destination was also quite exciting - New Orleans! I had been to The Big Easy before, but I don't think it will ever be less exciting. I arrived early in the evening and found a place to park overnight on the northwest corner of the French Quarter - on the corner of Iberville and North Rampart.
       By coincidence, my cousin Jennifer was vacationing in New Orleans with her friend Alisa. I was meeting up with them but had some time. So, I walked all the way across the French Quarter, got a virgin pinacolada in the French Market and strolled the bank of the mighty Mississippi before going to Jackson Square to wait for Jennifer and Alisa.
       Jackson Square is a cultural hot spot in a very cultured place. There is usually a man making music on champagne glasses, and he was there. There are dozens of tarot card readers and palm readers and an eclectic mix of musicians. At this particular time I sat and listened to a trio made up of a guitar, a mandolin, and a bass made out of a single string poked through the bottom of an upturned bucket, strung taught by a tree branch. They were fun but the crazy mix of Creoles and tourists whooshing around me was the real entertainment.
       Jen and Alisacame by eventually and I helped them decide to take a Hauntings Tour that departed from The Morgue - a small bar on the east side of the Quarter.
       The tour was fantastic. It was lead by a pair of men - I think their names were Kevin and Tom - who were more than just tour guides. One had a background in metaphysics with ample experience in performance. The other though was a native Creole who was a folklorist by trade. All the other guides were dressed up like Marilyn Manson and took pleasure in sneaking around corners - but these guys were into the history and stories and were fantastic. It was a really great time.
       While we were walking one of the guides struck up conversation with me. I was walking next to Jen and Alisa. He asked where I was from and then where I was staying. I said,      
"Actually, these nice ladies have been nice enough to invite me to stay with them in their hotel room."
       "Nice," he says with wide eyes. "Real nice," he repeats, looking at them.
       I'm struggling to suppress laughter when Alisa pipes up and says, "This is his cousin. They're related. We didn't just pick him up off the street."
       "Oh, that's too bad," he says to me, grinning now. "I was proud of you. I was real proud of you on many levels."
       Yes, I had my fun. But, that was just about the raciest thing that I took part in New Orleans.
       From the tour we headed to Bourbon Street. I've been around so I can tell you, Bourbon Street has earned its reputation. You know those videos you've seen of Spring Break hot spots? It seems to me that this place is like that all year, and this night was no exception. I felt like I was committing a venial sin - walking down Bourbon Street as a teetotaler. But, I had my fun people watching and music listening. We had a little dinner (as I had not eaten since Chatanooga) in a place, the name of which I never knew, on Bourbon Street. I had jambalaya and alligator meat. When Jen and Alisa took to the dance floor of a club I retreated back to the hotel. They didn't last long either though that night.
       The next morning we all got up early. We had a good, southern breakfast at Poppy's Grill. As we walked back to the hotel I was approached by a man who said, "I can tell by the smile on your face where you bought your shoes. I can tell you exactly where you got your shoes down to the city and state. Bet me - if I'm wrong, I'll wash and shine them for you. If I'm right, you give me money to buy breakfast."
       I was wearing an old, cheap pair of ripped sneakers. I knew that I had bought them 800 miles away in Washington, D.C. and that there was no way he could know this. But, I was interested so I said, "How much is that breakfast?" He quoted some price just over four dollars. "Ok," I said.
       "Shake on it," he replied. I did and he gets a big smile. "You got your shoes right here on the world famous Royal Street in New Orleans, Louisiana. Remember, I said I could tell you where you got your shoes, not where you bought them. And, you got them right on the bottoms of your feet."
       I was stunned, and impressed. So, I gave him a five dollar bill and he told me some more riddles. I told him I completely intend to earn that money back hustling other people  with that and other riddles he told me - and I do, so beware;-)
       After that Jen and Alisa and I went back to their hotel room. I collected my stuff and bid adieu. Soon I was off on I10 West towards Austin.
       Ten hours later I was in Austin. I would be staying with Uncle Matt - my father's brother - while I was there; but I wasn't meeting up with him for a few hours more. So, I found the address of Sunshine's friend there and delivered my stuff.
        The job being done, all I had left to do was have fun and get home. It was a nice feeling which I really relished the following, relaxing day with Uncle Matt.
       I got dinner that night in a place called El Arroyo. I got a beef sirloin over a chicken enchilada. WOW was it good! The beef melted in your mouth and the chicken was so tasty! This was party of a streak of several days of fantastic food which had started back in Chatanooga!
       I still had a bit of time before going to Uncle Matt's so I gave myself a driving tour of downtown Austin. I was struck by how nice it was. It hardly seemed like inner city - and I was shocked to find that the grounds of the state capital building were not only beautiful but also populated. It was 11 o'clock at night and there were college kids playing frisbee, families walking with children, and couples - not muggers - hiding in the shadows!
       I found my way to Matt's later that night. His Spartan style of living was not surprising, knowing him, and it was wonderfully comfortable to the weary traveler! I slept well on his couch until after 10 am the next morning. When we got up we went back down the state capital building to see it in the day time and get a tour of the inside. It was not as impressive as Connecticut's building, but far more distinguished with history. Somehow I was surprised to realize that six flags have flown over Texas: France, Spain, Mexico, Republic of Texas, United States of America....and the Confederate States of America. You could feel the pride and independent spirit all over the capital grounds. The memorials for war and war heroes were abundant.
       fter the tour we were plenty ready to eat, so Matt took me to the Texas Chili Parlor right in downtown Austin. I ordered beef enchiladas and some mild chili. Mild my foot! That stuff made it feel like smoke was coming out my ears! But, it sure was good. I said to Matt, "This chili is a lot better than back home because there's real beef in it, not just hamburger."
       He responded, "Are you kidding me? This is Texas! Even the salad has meat in it!"
       After our lunch Matt took me to an overlook along the Lower Colorado River. The banks below the promontory where we stood held the homes of some people that were clearly filthy rich.
       By this time it was late afternoon. We went back to his apartment, put a basketball game on TV and both took a nap. It was nice to relax so easily - something I rarely, if ever, do.
       When we got up we ate at a health buffet - a place with a name something like Fresh Choice. From there we went to a Dave & Buster's. I had never been to one, but it was a lot of fun. It's a big, fancy game arcade with a restaurant and bar. Wow, have games gotten high tech since I was a kid! We played a boxing game that you played by holding gloves in your hand and actually boxing a computer character! The place was a lot of fun - especially since I thoroughly and repeatedly whooped Uncle Matt at a tennis game that he had told me he was good at! It was a fantastic day!
       We got to sleep relatively early that night as he had to get up early the next morning for work, and I was destined back to the road. I was heading east by 9 am. I stopped at a butcher's market to buy some fresh beef jerky. You just can't buy it like that around here - "goooood" with three syllables!
       In Houston I stopped for lunch with my friend from school, Dave Fiegulson. He lives there and took me to a place called Goode Company Barbecue. The walls were cluttered with deer heads, rifles, saddles, and an occasional buffalo. I got a barbecue sandwich and, again, the beef was incredible! The food was great and it was good to see Dave. But I could not stay long due to the call of the road.
       When I was in Austin, Matt had taken me to a Barnes and Noble - I wanted to try an audio book. I bought John Steinbeck's Travels with Charlie: In Search of America. Steinbeck had written this nonfiction book of his own cross-country-loop road trip late in his career. It was very expensive and 8 hours long, but I bought it and was never sorry for a second. The reading was done by Gary Sinese (the actor who played Lieutenant Dan in Forrest Gump, as well as countless other movie roles). The reading was superb and the writing was really excellent. It was more than just a travelogue - there was a lot of philosophy about what makes America American. I'd highly recommend it to anyone in the original print version, or with Sinese's reading on audio tape!
       I didn't get to New Orleans till after 10 pm, and then I got completely and totally lost outside of the French Quarter. Inside the quarter, I'm good. But the rest of New Orleans is a mess! There are several streets with the same name and it was crazy. I accidentally drove a long stretch next to one of the huge, Protestant cemeteries. Scary! My goodness, my eyes were anywhere except the road as I figured anything I was going to crash into would be less gruesome than whatever might come out of those cemeteries! The imagination is a powerful thing, but so is a yard filled with dead Haitians and Cajuns!
       I didn't know exactly what I was going to do when I got to the French Quarter, but I was sure looking forward to it. I remembered that there was live music until pretty late at Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville and I had gotten a pretty good sense of where to go and not to go in the Quarter. So, I found a public parking place at Decatur and Iberville - the southwest corner of the Quarter. It was only $15 for overnight parking. It was well lit and had a good level of traffic with few people hanging around, so I decided to sleep that night in the car. It was a cold night so I was able to wrap myself in a blanket while I lounged across the front seat of my car - thankful I was for bench seats! I slept that night with the Mississippi flowing just 50 yards away and woke up right in the French Quarter!
       But, my night wasn't over yet. I ventured down Decatur, past the Iberville monument (founder of New Orleans), the Coyote Ugly bar, the Hard Rock Cafe, Jackson Square and the few remaining street performers, the pretty Pontalba building and then the Joan of Arc statue and the French Market to get to Margaritaville. Yes, Jimmy's spirit was in the room. There was a long haired man playing banjo, foot stomping and story telling like a mad prophet. I later learned that this was Mike West, whose CD I am currently listening to. He was incredibly talented and, more importantly, loads of fun and very New Orleans! I had a great time listening to him and stayed till there were only two patrons - including me - left in the bar. I got to meet him and his little band (check out his web site at mojono.com/mm - you'll be impressed).
       Finally, I ventured back across the Quarter. It was late now and there was only a few people about. I decided not to go to the car right yet, but instead blazed my own trail into the Harrah's Casino off the edge of the Quarter. It was Harrah's where I played and won on the roullette table with my cousin Anthony in Las Vegas during my first cross country trip, so I thought I'd try my luck getting in. But, being 2 months short of 21 counts for nothing and I was, this time, stopped at the door and turned around.
       In the morning I woke up a little while after sunrise. I wandered around for a while before finding my way into a Starbucks to wash up and brush my teeth in the bathroom. Refreshed, I headed back up into the Quarter for breakfast and fun.
       It was just barely 7:30am and most places didn't open till 8. As I wandered, hungry and thirsty, the man I mentioned earlier came up to me and said, "I bet I can tell you where you got your shoes." He grinned and we shook hands. He asked where I was going, and then helped me find some places that were open. As we got talking I wanted to know how he had gotten breakfast with the $5 I had given him. He told me I was in the wrong part of town (down near the French Market) to eat cheap. So, he took me up to the west side of Bourbon Street. There was a place called Krystal's - it was a fast food place and the food was not nearly as good as what I would have gotten further down in the Quarter. But, I offered this man - whose name I never asked - to join me for the meal and it cost me less to feed us both than it would have been to get myself something someplace else. So, I was glad for that. Plus, it was better than eating alone and I got to know him a little. It was fun and enriching and I was very glad for the experience.
       After breakfast I strolled through the Quarter for a little while before going back to the car. I was finally heading out of New Orleans by about 9:30am, recrossing Lake Pontchartrain. Pontchartrain is not as interesting as the bayou that I had driven back and forth across west of New Orleans, but it is pretty and it has an odd, high-arching bridge that you drive across there.
       I drove the 500 miles or so back to Uncle Nick's place pretty much straight through that day and got there just in time for dinner. Uncle Nick was just pulling some chicken off the grill and Aunt Estelle was getting the finishing touches ready inside for barbecue chicken salad. Linda and her daughter, Theresa Marie, were also there with her friend Carlie - Aunt Estelle's goddaughter. Theresa is 5 years younger than me - she and I and Anthony make up our own generation (even though we aren't technically of the same generation ourselves!) of cousins in that part of the family and all get along well. We had a good dinner and then went for a walk across the walking bridge in Chatanooga.
       After dessert I went with Linda and Theresa to sleep at their house that night. Theresa was gone for school by the time I woke up, but after I showered I ran some errands with Linda before going over to Aunt Estelle's. We had a good time talking - it's good to get to know the family better! When we got to Aunt Estelle's, we had a good lunch and then Linda and Uncle Nick and I went to the Chickamauga Civil War Battlefield and Museum. On the way there we stopped at the house of a friend of their's. We went in for drinks and conversation and the woman shared with me and Uncle Nick some of her fried chicken - wow, they sure can cook in the south!
       When we got back to Uncle Nick's place we waited for Kevin, Linda's husband, to get home from his job in Atlanta. Then all of us and Kevin's friend Marty went over to Linda and Kevin's place where they recently built themselves a bocce court. They ordered pizza and we ate and played bocce till it was too dark to see the balls. I was pretty impressed with me - I stayed right with Uncle Nick and Kevin and was on the winning team every time except for once!
       I slept there again that night. In the morning, after I showered, Linda took me back to Uncle Nick's place where my car was. He loaded me up with supplies, per Aunt Estelle's orders, and I was headed back towards Washington, D.C.
       Now, the driving generally a very enjoyable part of the trip for me. But, it's so much more enjoyable when you're going somewhere. Going home is significantly less exciting. This was, therefore, the most arduous day of the trip. The 624 miles of the final day did not reach the point of being excruciating, but I was glad to be done driving when I arrived back at my apartment that night.
       Like many experiences, it was - and is - difficult to explain to anyone the magnitude, splendor, enrichment, and excitement of a trip like this within the confines of  small talk with friends and acquaintances. But, by way of explanation and advice I'd say that traveling is like winning the lottery: If you don't play and don't win, you'll never be sorry and never know what you missed. But, if you do play, you will win  - and you'll be forever glad you took the opportunity!


Go read more about how I did it in
D.C. to Austin: Drive More Often Logistics!
<<Thank you to Uncle Nick and Aunt Estelle; Linda, Kevin, and Theresa; Jennifer and Alise; Uncle Matt; and Dave Feigelson - all of whom helped me have fun and keep expenses down during the trip! :-) >>
D.C. to Austin: Drive More Often
by
Ryan Cofrancesco