Just sit right back and
you'll hear a tale,
Having been instructed to put up an account of the trip to Lynchburg, here it is. Suggestions and additions by the three wayward souls who were just along for the ride are welcomed. Anyways, this is what I remember.
It all began on a cloudy afternoon in Rock Hill about 1 p.m. Four guys and a trunk full of stuff started off on a 268-mile trip to Lynchburg, Virginia. According to the computer mapping software, which was adjusted to a certain student’s driving speeds, said it would take three and a half hours. Unfortunately for our heroes, this would not be the case. It started out easy, take I-77 to I-81 to Roanoke and get on US-460 to Lynchburg. Simple. Two and a half hours to Roanoke it says. Well, two stretch breaks and passenger rotations later, we get to Roanoke after about three and a half hours. Two factors to consider other than the rest breaks: a) we drove in the Appalachian Mountains, which tends to slow you down, and b) the car had the highest amount of weight it has ever held in it, not good for driving fast in said mountains. Shoot, 50-year-old women were zooming past us on the uphill. Of course, had the driver not been a) not trying to get them killed and b) extremely miffed he might have made a witty remark, in his best English accent, along the lines of: “It’s not a matter of age, it’s a matter of weight ratios.” On the downhill, though, the other drivers best get out da way because this car be rollin. I mean, the driver could take his foot of the gas and the car would still accelerate, and they were already doing 70 mph.
-Aside- The names have been changed to protect the
innocent. Somewhere between entering the mountains and getting to Lynchburg,
there is a remark made that will forever live in infamy. Yes, forever, because
I know someone will remember. Here’s the situation, in the mountains
they have piles of petrified snow. You know, the kind of snow that’s mixed with
so much road salt that it lasts forever, yeah, that stuff. Anyways, a passenger,
who we will call Arturo, attempted to make the comment: “They have piles of
melting snow.” There lies a discrepancy in whether or not this was actually
said, because the driver heard “piles of melted snow” and subsequently made the
smart-ass remark, “They have piles of water?” The argument ensues and things
become skewed further. Any references hereafter in conversation or in writing
to the terms “melting water” or “melted water” can trace their lineage to this
event. –End Aside-
A few things to add, one of these things will play
an important role later in the story, see if you can figure out which. First,
upon entering Virginia, all the clouds disappeared. Last, *foreshadowing* all
signal on the driver’s cellular phone disappeared once they entered Virginia
*foreshadowing*. So, they get on 460 East and follow the directions from
Microsoft as best they can. After crawling through the city of Roanoke and
having the “Four unidentifiable Winthrop students” and ensuing conversations,
they take a right, supposedly according to directions, on Business 460. Driver
wondered about this move, and created doubt amongst the passengers. Eventually,
they stop at a gas station to use a pay phone to call the parent they were
supposed to meet. 50 cents needed for a local call; driver only has 35 cents,
back to the car. 50 cents put in, starts dialing, “Please dial 1 before this
number,” call is long distance, requiring a dollar in change, back to the car.
At this point, the Army draftee goes inside to get directions. A customer
offers to guide them to the correct road. They eventually end up passing him,
BEFORE he’s done guiding. The hotel is spotted; they stop to see if the parent
they’re supposed to meet is there. They were supposed to get in touch before
entering Lynchburg with the cell phone, but since it got no signal, they
couldn’t. Remember, *foreshadowing* the parent has the tickets to the game
*foreshadowing*. Driver goes into office, calls room, gets no answer. He asks
to make a long distance call, needs calling card, back to the car. Driver gets
card from Jeremy, uses card to call cell phone of parent. This genius finally
realizes after about the sixth ring that since his cell doesn’t work, it is
highly unlikely that his father’s would either. Back to the car. They drive to
Liberty, but not without taking a wrong turn at the suggestion of a person who
shall remain unnamed, -cough- Art! –cough-. They drive around, they park, they
start walking to the arena.
-Aside- You haven’t seen horrible dorms until you see
Liberty’s. They live in barracks, sort of; they look more like trailers
actually. And you thought Richardson was bad. -End Aside-
They
get to the ticket window, and look, and wait, and look, and finally give up and
buy tickets because its frickin cold. At the exact instant Chris pays twenty
bucks they spot the driver’s father with the tickets. And those lousy
capitalist bastards wouldn’t give Chris a refund. They suggested he sell them.
Driver thought about suggesting he stand in front of the ticket window,
blocking it, and sell the tickets for $4 a piece, but he refrained.
-cue
music- You have now entered the twilight zone. –end music- The game. It’s
Winthrop versus the world in the Vines Center. Everybody hates them except the
Winthrop fans. Hostile environment would be an understatement. Team makes two
shots in warm-ups before the 2nd half. Team has four-point lead at
half. Billy has four fouls most of the 2nd half. Team gets an
11-point lead. They start missing 3’s, and then free throws, and then lay-ups.
Team makes a trey with 30 some seconds left to go up by three. While in the
midst of celebration, Asheville takes the ball down and exploits the lack of
defense to tie. Team has 18.6 seconds, a tie game, and the ball. Team ensues to
waste 17 seconds and throw up a desperation heave, which misses. Overtime. Team
misses more free throws and lay-ups. Team’s down by 5 with 1:30 left. Team
presses, steals, and Ivan hits a 3. Team presses, steals, and Ivan hits a 3.
Team is up by 1 point with 7.1 seconds left. Driver still had doubt of victory.
And in a “truth is better than Hollywood” situation, Asheville goes down and
scores a jumper to win by 1. But in one last twist of the dagger by the cruel,
gnarled, and twisted hand of fate, one of the refs says there was no shot. They
go to the replay to decide if it was in time. It was readily apparent to most
that it was in time, and they had seen it live. The perfect shot, a jumper,
released at the last possible millisecond, a perfect rainbow, swish. Art
declares the setting to be surreal. Driver swears he heard the ball go through
the net, right before the stadium erupted. Winthrop loses. Another road trip to
a devastating loss.
But it ain’t over yet…
They leave campus and head
back to the hotel where they will meet the parent and go to dinner. They
retrace their entrance, making all the turns in the opposite directions. Note:
*foreshadowing* People in Virginia have no idea how to design roads
*foreshadowing*. They take all the correct turns and go the direction they
came, except it ends in a ramp to the freeway. They take the freeway back to
Liberty. Lap 2. They stop in a parking lot to observe the situation. After
waiting to turn out and finally deciding to back up and make a two-point turn,
they exit the parking lot and get on the freeway. East, West, East, West… East,
they just cut off a native. Back to Liberty. Lap 3. They read the sign and
finally get on to the road the hotel is on. After dinner, they see some
Winthrop compatriots in the restaurant, “taking one for the team.” And no, they
were not drinking apple juice. Back in the hotel room, which was in a section
of the hotel which was essentially roomed out to Winthrop fans, the
beta-testing for the as yet to be officially named card game, described as team
capitalism or Politics for now, occurred. In the describing of the rules by
Jared, Art complains that his contributions to the creation of the game are not
being attributed to him and that he should get some credit for the game. During
the walloping of everyone by Jared, Jared admits to writing absolutely none of
the rules and declares that it was all Art’s doing. Art wins the second game,
which used the better and revised rules. The game is still not completely
finished, though, it needs more testing and tweaking.
The
second day. Nothing of great importance happens this day, at least not of the
catastrophic levels of the first day. Comments are made about the ΚΣ
footrace, which woke everyone up at 3 a.m., “Kappa Sigs, little children, same
difference.” Driver decides to take a different route back to Winthrop, “It
wouldn’t be us if I didn’t have the opportunity to get us lost.” At the gas
station, “No Loitering” over by the trees. They managed to get back in one
piece, without a hitch, well except for the construction detour, but it was
well marked so even the driver from Maryland couldn’t get lost. Driver spent
about $50 on gas for the trip and ended up driving 16 hours over the two days,
which would be ok if he had cruise control in his car, but he doesn’t.
The four voyagers survived
cramped spaces, bad directions, and Maryland driving to get back to Winthrop
alive and uninjured. Another trip to remember, that’s for sure.
Now, what moron keeps coming
up with these stupid ideas for road trips?