This was my favorite not favorite road trip.
I was living in Phoenix and had arranged to meet a friend in Chicago to see a musical. Yes, you read correctly. I was planning to drive approximately 1,800 miles for a date, and yes, she was a very good friend. The concert was on a Saturday night, the drive straight through, approximately 24 hours. Having wangled two days off from work, I left very early on a Thursday, intending not to sleep. Hell, I was young – well anyway, younger – and I liked the girl a lot.
I’ll make a loooong drive short. Stopping briefly only for gasoline, food and bathroom breaks, I managed to stay on schedule. But by the time I was nearing Illinois, I was wearier than I think I’d ever been in my life, and as I hit the Chicago city limits, I was quite literally spacing out.
To this day I can’t believe I made it to my hotel alive. With just enough time to freshen up and get to the venue, I lay down on the bed to rest my eyes. Eight hours later I woke up.
I heard the next day it was a very good concert.