May 2020.
After months in self-isolation the sun finally made an appearance, restaurants and vacation spots gradually reopened, and the spread of the Wuhan virus (at the time) slowed significantly. After my trip to Italy in March, moving from Michigan/Ontario to Missouri, and going on furlough while collecting unemployment, I became fairly seasoned at traveling during the outbreak, leaving the world cleaner as I passed through it, wiping everything in sight, wearing a mask, and mostly avoiding indoor crowds.
A friend in Texas pitched in for part of the trip; he purchased a McIntosh amplifier from a guy in Columbus, Ohio. At four thousand dollars and over 100lbs it ended up being cheaper and safer for him to pitch in for my fuel, hotel, and rental costs instead of paying to pack, ship, and insure it. It was also safer for me to see the goods in person, confirm the merchandise was legitimate, and handle the cash transaction face to face. I could have carried it in the BMW but the trunk of my convertible wasn’t large enough (I keep fluids and emergency tools and parts back there) and storing it in the back seat would have been a security hazard.
Meanwhile Hertz, with its rental business harmed by restrictions on travel due to the pandemic, was on the verge of bankruptcy. The Ballwin, Missouri branch was happy to hand me the keys to a rental for $10/day including tax, an excellent deal that was cheaper per day than buying or leasing a new vehicle or putting wear and tear on my own car. Equipped with 7″ UConnect infotainment and Chrysler’s Pentastar V6, the dark gray 2018 Pacifica I received was a nice step up from the only other vehicle they had available, a Chrysler Town and Country.
While the old Grand Caravan/T&C handled acceptably for its size, the body was jittery over minor bumps with springs and dampers that leaned toward firmness. The Pacifica, with major improvements to steering, suspension, and ride quality, carries itself like a modern luxury sedan, emphasizing comfort and refinement but offering confident predictability in routine driving — comparable in feel to a Cadillac Seville or Lincoln LS. Moderate speeds through onramps feel adequately secure, inspiring some aggressive throttle input until it waddles a bit at higher cornering speeds, at which point the 13-inch brake discs perform admirably at slowing things down. Still, it’s fun to romp on the throttle and weave through traffic.
Minivans can be fun. The Pacifica has character.
Transmission responsiveness improves with a quick-shifting 9-speed gearbox that replaces the old 6 along with a slight bump in both power and fuel economy. The revised, muscular sounding 3.6 gets a 5 horsepower boost to 287, nothing noteworthy but it’s plenty for carting around myself, a friend, and some luggage, enough to hit 60mph in just under 7 and a half seconds. That’s on par with my 2008 BMW 328 convertible (likely faster) but with acres of useful space, Stow and Go storage versatility, room for eight people (if equipped), and spectacular long distance comfort. I spent a few hours in the third row on a Zoom call while my friend drove us from Houston to San Antonio. Trust me, adults fit fine back there.
Fittingly, before my trip, my first task as minivan captain was to drop off my little sister and her friend.
I have to make a concession — at my age, driving a tall box on wheels with teenagers in the back looks more natural that I care to admit. But why should there be any shame associated with favoring function over fashion? If you want to demonstrate the importance of your role as a parent, a minivan should be a point of pride rather than a concession to life’s obligations. As America’s birth rate falls, being a parent is an increasingly deliberate role. Trendy crossovers with high floors have limited storage, carry fewer people, and tend to be less enjoyable to drive, especially popular choices like the Chevy Equinox and Nissan Rogue. In terms of image, a “Karen yelling at the barista” is a far worse vehicular identity than “I have kids and they play soccer.”
Minivans are for good folks who need to get things done. Crossovers are for people who need to speak with the manager.
Columbus OH
I arrived in Columbus and checked into a Doubletree, among my favorite hotel chains for clean rooms, high thread count sheets, and a warm cookie upon check-in. I noticed the lobby was full of young people checking in wearing BLM t-shirts, activists staying in town to join protests in Columbus. Because of ongoing civil unrest I booked most of my rooms in the suburbs. I also declined the extended insurance coverage so it was on me to be cautious with Hertz’s property.
I headed to town looking for snacks and toothpaste but noticed Walgreens and CVS both closed early. I also received notifications on my Blackberry warning of curfews and potential violence and civil unrest. For America, this was a summer to remember.
The next morning I checked out of the Doubletree and headed to the bank to withdraw four grand. It was my first time inside of a local bank branch since the pandemic began so the protocol had changed. The drive through was open but for the amount I was withdrawing they needed me to come in. As I walked through the double doors a table with four employees was there to greet me; I imagine it’s awkward for branch employees since you’re usually told to remove face coverings rather than wear them. I gave my identification and account information to a woman who said she’d withdraw the cash and bring it to me outside.
She came out, mentioned she ran into some trouble, and asked me to be patient while she tried again. It seemed odd. Acquiring money from a bank seems like a pretty normal, natural thing to do. I didn’t have to sign any Patriot Act documents nor did I come close to the threshold that triggers that so I wasn’t sure what was going on.
After about 20 minutes of back and forth she finally came outside with my stuffed envelope and counted out the cash. I thought it was a bit of a security hazard since we were both outside in the parking lot but we’re in strange times and the rules are on hold.
I then made my way over to Wendy’s to try their new breakfast sandwich. It’s fantastic but your doctor will disapprove. Sausage, bacon, and a fresh egg are encapsulated by a soft, glistening bun. It’s simple, perfect, and long overdue from America’s best nationwide fast food chain — I said what I said and I stand by it. No, I’m not being sponsored.
I headed over to the seller’s house, went inside, examined the goods, determined it wasn’t a cardboard box full of bricks, and handed him the cash.
The amp fit perfectly behind the third row, cushioned by towels and covered by soft luggage. People expect vans to carry grubby children, their trash, and middle aged depression — things that no thief wants — so it felt like a perfectly secure place to store it on my journey.
Nashville TN
My next stop was Nashville to see some friends and their dogs. My friend Austin also drive his $800 Miata up from Georgia to meet with us for dinner.
I stayed the night with a good friend of mine, a police officer in the Nashville suburbs at probably the safest (and thoroughly armed) home in the metro area. This is his dog Mickey. Mickey is a lot to handle but he’s absolutely spectacular with a tongue that seems to be too big to fit inside of his head.
Even working in a suburb a half hour away from the city he’s had to deal with threats of arson and violence. It’s a tough time to be a firefighter, cop, or EMT. If you have friends in healthcare, law enforcement, or other high-contact public services be sure to check on them.
It’s hard to believe this original and unblemished car was only $800.
Austin came up from Georgia to join us for tacos and meet up with a guy on Craigslist selling a radiator. I hadn’t owned or driven a first-generation (NA) Miata since the one I sold in 2014. Everything from the finger-sized chrome door handle to the stubby shifter and wraparound glass felt completely natural, like a favorite t-shirt that fits, not too loose and not too tight. And of course the pop ups! We’ll never see them again due to regulations on pedestrian safety and fuel economy. Like curb feelers and wire wheels they represent a specific, more leisurely time in motoring history.
I also discovered that Publix, a grocery chain I enjoyed on trips to Florida long ago, had locations in Nashville. Naturally, I found the closest one and ordered one of their legendary sandwiches.
The Publix deli sandwich is a thing of beauty, densely packed with hopes, dreams, and magic, made possible by crisp, dense bread with the strength and resilience to hold it all together and bring that Boar’s Head meat it to your face. I’ve eaten a lot of things in a lot of places around this planet and few things are as consistently exceptional as this.
Oxford MS
From Nashville I headed west to Oxford, Mississippi to see another friend, an engineer from Rhode Island who thrives as a fish out of water in the rural south.
I wound through small towns and rural two lane roads, avoiding big cities where conflicts between protestors and police could be an issue. I favor the right to protest but that wasn’t on my agenda in someone else’s vehicle.
The bridge that connects Memphis to Arkansas was taken over by demonstrators so I made sure to stay clear of any food stops downtown, sacrificing a visit to one of Memphis’s legendary barbecue joints in favor of gas station food.
And as far as gas station food goes, you can never go wrong with Rap Snacks. Yes, there’s the novelty of a deceased hip hop artist’s image being used to sell snacks, but these are genuinely good. My favorite so far is Migos Sour Cream and Ranch.
Setting the mood for my arrival I set Apple Music to blend a station based on southern country and familiarized myself with Alabama’s entire catalogue of hits. Who doesn’t love Randy Owen?
James gave me a tour of Oxford and the Ole Miss campus, pointing out the sorority houses and landmarks. Oxford still has a Sears, strictly an appliance and hardware store with signage boasting of being locally American-owned, located just outside of a charming town square.
This is his Nissan 240SX. A tree fell on it and now it’s a pickup truck.
C7 FTW.
A sloth I bathed with.
Baton Rouge LA
After a night of sushi, eggrolls, blasting tunes, and getting drunk I slept hard then drove south to Baton Rouge to meet Ian and drop off the amp.
We stopped at a diner called Laura’s, a place visited by the late Chef Anthony Bourdain. Today’s special was barbecue chicken and it was freaking phenomenal. Every southern cliche you know about a kind black woman serving you a scoop of magic while calling you “honey” was fully in tact, topped off at the end by a generous slice of cake that was pure heaven. The moist pieces of chicken were glistening with a coating of sweet and smoky sauce. Even the beans and rice were on point.
I left that place smiling and haven’t forgotten it. I felt like I’d received a special invite to someone’s house for a home cooked meal.
I was prepared to head home from there but we figured there was no reason not to head over to Houston and San Antonio for sightseeing. I called Hertz and asked to extend my trip and they gladly obliged with no additional fees or complications. I probably could have negotiated a lower rate with minimal persistence.
Heading west on I-10 we traveled on causeways hovering over the swamp below, an area that’s still recovering from BP’s oil spill in 2010. Though the economy has bounced back much of the wildlife hasn’t with unknown levels of damage to the deep ocean.
Houston TX
Upon arrival in Texas I got to see Andre, a majestic Great Dane enjoying the rare age of 11, a survivor cancer who’s defied the short lifespans that typify his breed.
Houston’s air is thick, as humid as Thailand with moisture you can slice with a butter knife. The region is blessed or cursed, depending on who you ask, with ribbons of wide, well maintained highways making it possible to cross the sprawling metro area in reasonable time if you’re aggressive enough. Some despise what they call a “concrete hell” but it suits my driving style perfectly.
People from all over the continent are drawn to Houston, America’s fifth largest metro area with nearly 7 million people, for its leadership in energy, aerospace, financial services, information technology, and manufacturing. Young people are drawn to a low cost of living thanks to generous zoning regulations that make it easy for developers to supply housing and taxes that remain relatively low. Property taxes in Texas tend to be high but income tax is non-existent. While Austin is Texas’s progressive left, Houston represents the state’s libertarian right, emphasizing economic development.
The Chrysler Pacifica is well-suited to the environment thanks to steady and powerful brakes and quick responses from the 9-speed automatic, mastering lane changes and abrupt transitions from free flowing traffic to heavy congestion. Driving in Houston bears similarities to Atlanta, requiring your full attention for a safe and timely arrival.
That evening we headed to Katz’s deli for socially distanced indoor dining where I enjoyed bourbon and a corned beef sandwich. After leaving Michigan where everything was closed it was nice to sit at a restaurant again.
Much of the Chrysler’s styling is carried over from the 200 sedan, copying it’s dolphin-like front end, sweeping dashboard, and blue backlit gauges. The face is an acquired taste, probably more palatable if you’re into marine life. The interior works well with soothing displays, a chunky rotary shifter, soft touch surfaces, and a look that’s upscale-intending. It doesn’t feel like a Lexus LS500 but it does feel like designers cared a lot about the presentation, certainly a notch above some of its Japanese van competitors.
I spent the following day exploring, making the obligatory trip to Whataburger, walking along the beach in Galveston, and visiting the 1940s Air Terminal Museum. I hoped to see the Houston Space Center but it was closed due to the pandemic.
More in Part 2.
See also: Houston’s 1940s Air Terminal Museum
