No Longer Built for the Late-Night, Adrenaline-Fueled Drive

When the Wilco show let out, I had all the energy I needed for the 260-mile return voyage.

If I weren’t seeing double 150 miles later, I might have laughed at that earlier estimation. Granted, I wasn't quite seeing double, but some brand of trickery infected my eyes, and I couldn't have approached a rest area at a more opportune time.

Ten minutes into my attempted escape from downtown Cincinnati, it felt like a bad idea. The tangle of one-way streets sent me on multiple goose chases before I found a sign pointing to 71 South.

Long late-night drives are young man's game. 20-somethings can leave Richmond at 11 p.m. Saturday and push onward to Erie with little more than momentum. But 250 miles was just too much, and I too stubborn to admit it.

Wilco chose Cincinnati, so I was at their mercy. I could have gone to Bonnaroo; my argument for skipping is well-documented.

Light, sporadic fog sent in across the Ohio River Valley, covering the first 90 miles. It was a mild nuisance. Trying to pick out the unmarked Kentucky state troopers was a bit rougher, but at 72 mph, they easily outed themselves thanks to aggressive driving in pursuit of drunks – this stretch of road does include the Kentucky Speedway, after all.

But drifting through a dead Louisville around 1 a.m.began the drag on my driving skills. A curvy drive will keep someone in the game longer than they should, but between Louisville and Nashville, the hills roll gently. They sooth the solo driver in a way this solo driver did not need. Someone in the passenger seat makes all the difference.

I began to feel it at Elizabethtown and by the time the orange Tyrannosaurus Rex broke the monotony, my vision threatened to double every image. I stopped to guzzle a bottle of water, counting on the cold to shock my system.

I can’t remember falling asleep so fast in years.

Then again, it had been years since I’d undertaken such a late-night drive – the Neko Case concert in Cleveland was the last such trip, back when I could journey north any night of the week and coast into Columbus at 2 or 3 a.m. without fearing a late start at work.

But the difference between 120 miles and 250 miles is much more than driving distance. Plus, I didn't feel back to normal until Sunday morning, a little too long when life has grown so busy.