It takes just three and a half hours to drive from Charleston, S.C. to Jacksonville, FL. Longer if you're battling a tropical that is threatening to turn into a hurricane.
The skies over Charleston were bright but not quite sunny when I got into my Chevy Cavalier for the drive Friday. I dropped my daughter Rossana off at work. As she stepped out of the car, she wished me good luck and warned me to be careful.
“Don't let Hurricane Dorian get you.” she said.
As I drove south on I-17, the skies turned from gray to black. Jags of lightning streaked across the sky and a few drops of rain pelted my windshield. I made it to I-95 as the clouds thickened. About 30 minutes out of Jacksonville, the weather exploded.
The rain came down with such force that I couldn't see 10 feet in front of me. There was no way I could change lanes to get off the interstate because I couldn't see who was behind me or to my right. All I could do was hang onto the wheel, strain my eyes for vehicles, and pray.
Was it scary? You damn right it was.
The exit to highway 295 south was coming up. For a moment the rain lessened and I took advantage of the respite to get off the highway.
It wasn't raining as hard on 295 and I relaxed. My relaxation was short-lived and the tropical storm returned in full force for another 10 minutes. On a four-lane highway built for speed, I was forced to reduce my speed to 30 miles per hour -- and crazy motorists were still passing me.
I breathed a sigh of relief when the Monument Road exit loomed ahead. A weather report on the radio informed me that 12 percent of the service stations in Jacksonville were out of fuel. The first thing I did was stop at a station and fill up. Some of the pumps were empty, but I was able to fill my tank.
As I entered BestBet, you probably won't be surprised to learn I wasn't in the greatest frame of mind to play poker. It showed in my game. Outside the weather raged, with wind-driven rain pounding the building and booming thunder rattling the building.
By the time I left the card room, the weather had subsided but the skies looked mean. As I buckled the seatbelt, thought of a line in a movie I once saw. The story line had a comet threatening to destroy the city of Phoenix, AZ. One of the characters was an Apache Indian who looked at the sky and said: “Sometimes He has to show us who is boss.” Hurricanes and tornadoes tend to get that message across.
I had planned to stay in Jacksonville. The Hilton Hotel where I normally stay was sold out, so I swung by the King's Inn, a motel about two miles from BestBet where I sometimes stay. To my surprise, the place was closed -- boarded up.
It was 1 a.m. The hurricane blues had me in its sight. I drove back to the entrance to highway 295 and headed north to Charleston.
