Like A Bat Out of Hell

Leaving at dawn on Friday morning from Springfield Illinois, I arrived safely home in Pinellas County Florida on Sunday morning. I drove 1160 miles. The driving time was a total of 24 hours, most of which was on Friday and Saturday. I drove like a bat out of hell.

The drive out of Illinois took about three hours. East of St. Louis I turned east on I-64 which led me into Kentucky. At this point, I knew my way home without a map. I drove this way home from when I went to Frisco Colorado and stayed there for a month in the summer of 2015. Passing through Kentucky I drove on I-64 to Nashville. Nashville has undergone tremendous growth in the last few years. Even at noon, bumper to bumper traffic came to a halt. After clearing Nashville, I continued south to Manchester Tennessee.

FInishing the drive in a torrential downpour from a thunderstorm after 10 hours and 480 miles, I pulled into the KOA in Manchester. I originally planned to stay there three nights but not until the following week. I changed the reservation to just Friday night only. Friday was the only night I could get a site. I wanted to stay longer so my friend Ron who retired in Tennessee a few years ago could drive over and visit. But I also wanted to keep going to make sure I got around Tropical Storm Barry. I was lucky to get one night. The site was also was only a 30 amp site. Knowing that I only had a 30 amp site worried me since the 30 amp sites are usually smaller than 50 amp sites.

When I got the campground office, they told me they had tried to reach me earlier in the day because they thought the site would be too small. I ignore my phone while driving and I am glad they didn’t reach me.  Wondering if I had a place to stay and rest would have worried me. A very helpful young man from the office took me out to view the site. We decided we could probably at least back the rig into the site. If folks who were parking on the road where they didn’t belong in the campsite across from me moved, I thought there would be enough room to pull in forward.

We tried to back in first. The young man said, wow, your rig looks a lot bigger when it’s near the site and he hesitated to guide me in. Then the black truck that was in my way moved so we tried pulling in. I think the kid was kind of amazed when he saw me slinging the big rig through the tight campground roads and into the spot. Pulling into the spot was really not that hard, I had been in tighter situations during the trip. I was also much better after three months on the road maneuvering in tight spots.

Relieved to have a spot to rest, I settled in for the night and went to bed early. The alternative would have been to go to a truck stop. I passed a truck stop near there the next morning and the stop was full. I knew I had to drive 540 miles to drive the next day. This drive would also include getting through Atlanta, probably the hardest section of the entire trip.

The next morning I rose at dawn, broke down camp, and hit the road. The drive into Chattanooga was beautiful. The area is hilly with rays of sunshine beaming through the fog and clouds on the trees on the slopes of the mountains. For the first time since Montana, I had to manually control the transmission. I downshifted before the steep climbs to keep the RPMs above 2000 so the engine temperature would not climb above 200 degrees. The drive through Chattanooga is kind of interesting. You pass into Georgia but then go back into Tennessee again, before coming back into Georgia. Chattanooga was busy and crowded but manageable, except for gasoline truck in front of me which was inexplicably driving less than 50 mph.

I generally go with the flow and don’t pass vehicles. But this suicide jockey kept going slower and slower. As we were approaching the Georgia state line and I-75 I broke one of my cardinal rules. I passed the suicide jockey on the right. Passing on the right is illegal and more importantly, puts you in a potential blind spot of the vehicle you are passing. When I finally pulled up next to him and looked over into his cab to see what was wrong with him, I saw he had an iPad in his right hand. He was looking at the tablet more than the road. Astounded that a man driving a gasoline truck carrying thousands of gallons of a highly explosive material was watching something on a tablet scared me. I don’t know what he was watching but I am thinking he was probably watching a video. Being relieved that I was past him I continued on my way to Atlanta where I figured all hell was going to break loose. I figured Atlanta would be my last major challenge to getting home and it was.

I entered Atlanta and all hell broke loose. I still had not decided whether I was going to take the I-285 bypass around Atlanta or not. About two miles north of the bypass, an electric sign indicated there was an accident ahead blocking five of the six lanes. I sat in traffic for over an hour just trying to get past the accident. Six lanes had to funnel into just one lane, and even on a Saturday, that is a huge problem in Atlanta. I knew I had at least a 10 hour drive so sitting in traffic this long was frustrating. The Georgia drivers were just crazy. They kept changing lanes at 3 mph, trying to find a small opening. When trucks tried to move over to the far left lane, drivers would go into the left emergency lane to go around the trucks. I thought the truckers showed a lot of patience with the idiot drivers.

The traffic cleared just north of the I-285 bypass. I decided to stay on I-75 through Atlanta figuring that the traffic accident choked off most of the traffic that would be traveling through downtown Atlanta. That was almost a good idea. When the traffic broke free everyone starting driving like a bat out of hell. I suppose they were late for wherever they were going and frustrated from sitting in a traffic jam for so long.

Vehicles were buzzing around me racing at speeds exceeding 80 mph. Downtown Atlanta is kind of cool to see. But there are several places where you have to stay left to stay on I-75, and other places you have to stay right to stay on I-75. The RV GPS and Google Map Display performed well telling me ahead of time which lanes to get in. This means changing lanes while driving through Atlanta. The drivers there are so aggressive that they won’t let you change lanes. I felt as if I was driving in Boston.

While driving through Atlanta, the thought occurred to me that I had not used my air horn the entire trip of 80 days and over 6000 miles. The air horn is similar to the one on a fire engine. The horn is really loud. I mean the horn is really really loud. The horn makes a low guttural sound, like a growling blah with a deep bass note. And did I say, the sound is very loud? The first time I used the air horn over a year ago in North Carolina I just about jumped out of my seat. I only use the horn to avoid an accident. I don’t use the air horn just because someone is being a jerk. Just south of downtown, the nav systems told me I had to move over one lane to the left to stay on I-75. I was only going about 4 mph an hour due to congestion and people having to change lanes. I put on my turn signal to move over one lane to the left.

The coach has huge mirrors on both the left and right sides of the coach. Each mirror is actually two mirrors. With the long vertical mirror, you can see one mile behind you. If you see a vehicle in that mirror, they are behind you. There is also a convex mirror on the bottom of the large rectangular mirror that reflects an image of what is alongside you. If a vehicle is in that mirror, that means the vehicle is alongside you. In addition to the mirrors are cameras mounted to the mirrors. Driving without a turn signal on, you see behind you from a mirror mounted on the top back of the coach. Activating the turn signal causes the display to switch to a camera mounted on the mirror on the side you have the turn signal turned on.

I turned on my left turn signal and then started to slowly ease over to the left lane after about five to ten seconds. I signaled my intent to change lanes a good five to ten seconds before changing lanes as I usually do. Maybe that was my mistake, not moving over quick enough for the super aggressive drivers. I noticed a car behind me. After I was about 1/3 of the way into the lane, the car transitioned from the long vertical mirror to the convex mirror. This meant the car was now alongside me. I could also see the car on my camera display on the left side of my coach since I had the left turn signal on. I thought the car was going to sideswipe me. I actually checked at the next refueling stop to make sure the car had not hit me. With a 40 ft bus, you could get hit and not know it.

Well, I laid on the horn for only the second time in 10,000 miles of driving. The vehicle kept coming up alongside me. We shared the lane for about 30 seconds. I blared the air horn the entire time the car was alongside me. Each of us had half a lane. I really thought they were going to hit me. I wondered how long the sound of the horn would last. I think the air for the horn is supplied by the same air compressor that supplies compressed air to the air brakes and airbag suspension the coach rides on. The vehicle finally got in front of me and cut me off. I wondered if they had any idea what a 40,000 pound vehicle would do to their automobile if I ended up in their back seat. I saw so many cars do the exact same thing to 18 wheel semi-tractor trailers that weigh 80,000 pounds during my five years of traveling in a RV. I just backed off, let them go on and stayed in my lane which took me to the left staying on I-75. You can’t get upset with these idiots. There is always another idiot down the road and another idiot the next day and another idiot the next day.

After clearing Atlanta the rest of the drive was uneventful. Clearing traffic from the Atlanta area takes a long time. My cat Paso Robles usually sits between the captain’s chair and the passenger chair on a soft rug. She curls up there for most of the driving. Sometimes she gets up to eat a bit, or drink some water, or changes how she is laying down. Often she sits prone with her legs folded underneath here like an airplane in flight. Mostly she just is stationary there. As we approached the Florida State line, I said to her, “We are almost in Florida, what do you think?” She did not answer. I was genuinely surprised that my traveling companion of the last three months did not answer me. At that moment I realized I had been on the road too long and it was time to go home now.

I now also knew I had cleared the tropical storm and was out of harm’s way. I was far east of the storm’s predicted track. I was safe now. I panicked in Illinois when I saw the path of the storm. But I stayed true to one of my mottos from enduring hurricanes in Florida, “Panic before panic sets in.” I hope I never have to drive this far again in a few days. I am much more comfortable driving around 200 miles each day. I try to follow the 300/3 rule, no more than 300 miles and to finish by 3pm. Even 300 miles feels like a lot to me. Closer to 200 miles is plenty for me. There are very few reasons to dash around the country. When you rush, that is when mistakes are usually made. I was fortunate to not have made any mistakes on my mad dash home from Illinois.

Crossing the Florida State Line excited me. I always try to get a photo of the welcome sign for Florida which is tricky when you are driving a 42 foot 40,000 pound bus. I took many good photos leading up to the Florida State line. Seeing the Florida State line is always a wonderful milestone for me. Crossing the state line signals that I am finally near home. After 80 days, and over 6000 miles, my eyes became moist as I crossed over into Florida.

After not driving on I-75 in north Florida for five years I was pleasantly surprised. The last time I came this way the road was a mess with lots of construction. Now this stretch was perhaps the nicest road I drove on the entire trip. What I was seeing now was modern state of the art highway design. The roads were smooth and well marked, the signage clear and easy to understand, and the area was beautiful. Seeing signs for alligator attractions was wonderful. I knew I was almost home.

I stopped just south of Gainesville near Macintosh on Orange Lake. I stayed in the same place on my first night in this RV back in June of 2018. As I pulled into the site, I wasn’t as tired as I thought I would be. I had driven 540 miles over 11 hours, and over 1000 miles in 21 hours the last two days. That is a lot in any vehicle but that distance is really a lot in a big rig. Maybe I was running on adrenaline or I was just happy to back in Florida. I thought about staying an extra night to rest. Tomorrow was Sunday, and I knew clearing Tampa on Sunday morning would be a lot easier than on Monday.

I drove the farthest I ever had without filling the tank. The tank was less than 1/4 full. The tank capacity is 100 gallons. Fuel consumption of 8 mpg which gives you a range of 800 miles. Usually, I fill up around 1/2 empty. I purposely was draining the tank because I wanted to fill up regular diesel, not biodiesel. Biodiesel is similar to ethanol gas, except it has up to 20% corn. Cummins rates the engine to run up to 20% biodiesel. But you cannot store the coach with biodiesel or algae will form in the tank. I remembered I filled up my tank in a gas station on the way out of this campground my first night in this rig back in June of 2018. So I thought the fuel was regular diesel there. Seeing the biodiesel there surprised me. Maybe the gas station switched over in the last year.

I had 145 miles to go. I knew I was getting 8 mpg. I was just not relying on the fuel gauge. I was calculating how much fuel I burned. I decided to just put in ten gallons. Ten gallons would get me 80 miles, then I only had to go another 65 miles on what was already in the tank. I knew there was a gas station near my house that I could get into that sold regular diesel. I used this station before. The fuel station is one of just two places in Pinellas that sold regular diesel that I could squeeze my rig into.

So the last three hours, during my triumphant return, was still stressful as I was watching the fuel gauge. I was sweating watching the fuel gauge go lower and lower. Of course the seven mile-long Howard Franklin Bridge lay ahead of me. This bridge was my last obstacle. The Howard Franklin is not a bridge you travel on while low on fuel. When I finally got the gas station and pulled up next to the pump, I knew I was going to make it home. My calculations told me that I would be putting in 90 gallons. However, I only put in 80 gallons. I can’t figure out how I was off by 10 gallons, except that I was actually averaging 8.1 to 8.2 mpg on the last part of the trip. The rig not being perfectly level could explain another part of the discrepancy.

I pulled out of the gas station and drove the final three miles home. I pulled up in front of my house on Sunday, July 14th, 84 days after I left on Sunday, April 28th. I unloaded most of the stuff from the coach on Sunday afternoon before putting the coach back in storage on Monday. How the cats would react to being home interested me. They seem somewhat confused being back in the house after being gone three months. They seemed to wander around dazed, not sure where exactly they were after being gone for 84 days. By the next day, they were back to normal.

I was grateful for being home safely. Several problems arose during the trip, some of which I considered major, including getting very sick when I finally got to Grand Teton, and the motorcycle not starting the entire trip. Being sick while traveling is not a good situation. But I was able to rest and recover since the trip was so long. The Tiffin Phaeton coach performed flawlessly. I had my share of mishaps which were mostly my fault. But stuff happens. I suppose anyone who has been gone for a long time will tell you the same thing. Far more things went really well. I returned home safely, as did my two cats, Paso Robles and Mountain Lioness. I’ve read that a successful mountain climb is not just reaching the summit, but climbing back down safely to where you started. I reached the summit on this trip and made my way back home safely. I feel very fortunate to have embarked on and experienced such an extraordinary adventure with my two feline friends. Life is good.

Bat Out of Hell – Meatloaf