PERFECT STORM

Perfect Storm

Staycations are fine, but I was long overdue for a real vacation.

         Hurricane Florence,  however, seemed to have a similar path in mind.  Her track was going to take her 75 miles south of where I planned to go. Just three or four days before I did.  
The first leg of the vacation was the long journey to Raleigh, en route to my destination, The Blue Ridge Parkway. 
       There were many hurdles to overcome 
trying to plan the longest vacation of my adult life. Timing and money at the very least, but my deepest worry was getting the rental car.
                     I had heard that they check your credit score first, and I didn’t have a car good enough for a long trip so, a rental was the only way this vacation was going to happen.  I was worried that all the planning I’d done would be for naught. Standing in a line at Budget RentACar, I was presuming this is where it all ended, and another staycation was in store.

         The lady in front of me went out to the parking lot to see if she liked the Jeep Patriot. “If that’s all ya got.” He then checked her credit report and motioned for her to come behind the counter. He pointed and (mumble  mumble), out the door she goes without her Jeep. 
         Here was the last hurdle, could I get a rental, with what I presumed, was a shitty credit report? Without a credit card that could pay for it at that time, on top of it all. Imma pay for it when I got back on the 9^th, and social security drops into the trough that day, ya know.

This was it. Months of planning and arranging would come crashing down, but I’m used to disappointment. As I braced myself for rejection, he was handing me the keys. “White Jeep in the third row.”

         I wasn’t looking for advice or suggestions, so I had only told the four people directly involved. Sissy and Dottie were welcoming and warm and I stayed 6 days at their houses. Shaun buddy took care of the business. My two spiritual advisors said go go go.
"The whole state is shut down” said one overly dramatic friend.

        “The Parkway is closed,” said my AAA auto service rep. Oh oh! It seemed really bad. “I 95 is still closed.” Now that seemed unbelievable because interstate highways are usually way above the land nearby and are only closed for construction and repair. All that traffic was being re-routed thru the middle of the state.

The week before, as Florence approached, the conditions were ripe for a HUGE natural disaster. Warm ocean temps and no wind shear. A cold front began to descend into the states, then went back up. 
        Florence was predicted to be as strong as Hugo, wet as Harvey. This was not going to be a glancing blow, but a direct hit like Hurricane Andrew, and a potential twenty-foot tidal surge. Then the storm would plow a slow path west and then more quickly north astride the Blue Ridge Parkway.         

My Buddy Vigo

Tabacco Museum

        I remember Hurricane Frances and how it ground its way slowly across Florida at a leisurely 3 MPH, and tore every leaf off of every tree, and it appeared that Florence was going to do the same to northern South Carolina and southern North Carolina.

 

                        Florence headed for a heavily populated area and there are many people without vehicles who were unable to evacuate. I remember Hugo that hit South Carolina with the devastating wind. 
I was driving down to Florida in  ’89 and the sight of hundreds of Pine Trees completely flattened is etched onto my memory. This was an eye-opener for me, who had never seen the impact of a large hurricane.

With images of fish flopping around on the interstate, I drove off. How long was an otherwise 11-hour drive to Raleigh going to take? At AAA,  I was shown all the road closings and only one road was open from the south to get to Raleigh. 
Everything south of there was a wreck but I made the trip in 10 hours and 52 minutes. 666 miles of white line fever, “In a quarter mile, take the next left” then right and another right. Twisting and turning like the Blue Ridge Parkway, I ended up on Rt. 1for 60 miles. Route 1 is inland  for some reason in North Carolina.

 Good news I heard in Raleigh North Carolina that day, they were going to open the Parkway. Therefore, its path over the Parkway couldn’t have been as devastating as portrayed. Finally, I was going back to the Mountains.