Early this morning I left the sights, sounds, and smells of the Big Apple behind and hopped a on $30 bus to Washington, DC. Right now, we're outside of Baltimore, less than an hour from our destination.
I’ll be spending the next few days in the DC area for work, and it’s an area I know pretty well, having lived here during my undergraduate days.
But before then, there were highways to travel. Wide, long, multi-laned AMERICAN highways. And since I love a good road trip as much as the next person, I eagerly grabbed my window seat this morning and prepared to admire the U.S. countryside for the next 4.5 hours.
And fine, you don’t see much. As we left New York and entered the state of New Jersey, the beautiful Manhattan skyline came into view, and I waved goodbye to it until the next time. But after that, it was pretty much…well, a lot of fields and factories and road signs. Down through New Jersey, in and out of Delaware, and now crossing Maryland, we've mostly seen trees and trucks.
No matter. It still brings up memories of American road trips past. Counting license plates from different states (“Hey, there’s Florida! Hey, Philadelphia! Oooh, Colorado—home state alert!”), for example. Or playing the sign game with my family, where you have to find the letters of the alphabet, in order, on road signs, and the first to ‘Z’ gets ALL the glory for about five minutes.
But mostly I'm just sitting still and watching the Northeastern U.S. go by, a little corner of the world that I think about fondly and am grateful to spend a few more days in. A nice little quiet bus ride, watching 226 miles go by.