Three days ago, I was reveling in the perfect weather of South Carolina. Today, I made a frankly insane decision and started my return home to the frozen reaches of New England. I also decided to, for the final time, take the scenic route. Instead of plowing through the mainland, I spent my morning scuttling out toward the coast.
After four hours of cotton farms and picturesque secondary highways, I arrived at Norfolk, Virginia. I took a knot of freeways through the city and exited onto the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. Twelve miles of bridge and two miles of tunnel connect mainland Virginia to the forgotten Delmarva Peninsula across the bay. Angry, grasping waves lapped up against thick concrete supports. Seagulls were omnipresent. As I climbed out of one of the tunnels, I realized this was the closest my car would ever get to swimming.
While the Chesapeake Bay was alive and captivating, the Delmarva Peninsula was quiet and staid. The sun set as I chugged toward Maryland. I wish we still had more sunlight; I can’t see the country in the dark. I can, however, report that my bed at the Quality Inn is quite comfortable, and I will therefore be going to sleep right now. Good night.