Bottom of the Ninth

I murdered a butterfly today. In all fairness, I guess it would technically be considered vehicular manslaughter. I didn’t see it coming, and it happened before I could react. Regardless, I will never forget the tiny thud of its lightweight body on my windshield, the color of its bright orange wings as its lifeless body flew up over the roof of my car, or the smudge it left directly in my sightline. Rest in peace, beautiful butterfly.

So begins my second day on my own. Yesterday wasn’t so bad, since I stayed in Baltimore all day and had plenty of activities to keep me busy. Today will not be as fun, considering I have to drive from Baltimore, MD, to St. Louis, MO, without a shotgun passenger or secondary driver. Looking for something fun to do? Mapquest directions from Baltimore to St. Louis International Airport. It’s really fun to look at the mileage per street and see 294.9 mi, followed by 221.1 mi. On the upside, my 13-hour drive would be taking me through seven states, which beats our previous record of six states in one day (see sidebar). I was a little worried about how I was going to do it, but I had adrenaline and Full Throttle working in my favor. I drove into St. Louis right on schedule and did a drive-by of the airport to practice getting from the airport to the hotel and vice versa. The Lambert-St. Louis International Airport is tiny, but what it lacks in size, it makes up for in total confusion. Days later, I’m still not sure what the most direct route out of that airport and to our hotel is. Reverse shout out to the people who engineered the traffic exits of the STL airport. By the grace of God and the direction of Cookie, I found our motel, which may very well be the scariest place I have ever stayed in my entire life. I’m not sure whether the fact that our motel had its own police substation is a good sign or a bad sign. Since I had about three hours to kill before Tom’s plane landed, I went in search of a restaurant/coffee house where I could eat dinner and write/type. No such luck. I drove through a Del Taco (I ate at McDonald’s earlier in the day, and since this is the unofficial road trip, the old rules don’t apply) and took my dinner back to my motel room. It was noisy and sketchy, but it must not have been too scary, because I soon fell asleep. Tom called me when his plane landed, and I was relieved to finally pick him up and have a traveling companion again.