Photo by MPD01605

Not satisfied with our day trip plan, we decided to take a “real” vacation, which consisted of a road trip to Virginia Beach.  We’ve made this trip several times over the past eight summers, and knew what to expect along the way.  What follows is a summary, with some do’s and don’t’s thrown in.

Getting Started

The best way to avid traffic in the Greater New York area is to get your ass out of town early.  Real early.  We were packed up and on the road by 4:30 am, where our only company were farmers and fishermen.  We sped through Brooklyn on the Belt Parkway, which was in its perpetual state of construction, and paid the $11 toll after crossing the Verrazano Bridge into Staten Island.  A quick trip across the island brought us to the Goethals Bridge, as we avoided the malodorous West Shore Expressway.  Just past the Goethals Bridge is the town of Elizabeth, former home of Hi-Cue Billiards.  Then, it was on to the New Jersey Turnpike.

Jersey Turnpike

We rocketed along the Jersey Turnpike, stopping only once at the Molly Pitcher Service Area for Cinnabon.  There was no traffic, and I had to fight myself to keep it under 80 mph.  New Jersey gets a bad rap as a toxic wasteland.  There are vast expanses of pine barrens and farmland, and I found the drive along the southern part of the turnpike to be pleasant, and not just because I was hauling ass.  As the turnpike came to an end, we paid the $5.95 toll, and crossed the Delaware Memorial Bridge into Delaware.  Two and a half hours, and no traffic.  Things looked good.

Delaware

Much to my dismay, Delaware does not have a true limited-access highway for its entire length.  You’re forced to follow Route 13, which turns into a local road with traffic lights once you pass south of Dover.  I thought the Midwest was the corn capital of the U.S., but Delaware looks like it can give it a run for the money.  Acres and acres of corn, as far as the eye can see.  Who the hell eats all of this corn?  No wonder we’re a nation of obese diabetics.  The final insult was waiting 15 minutes for a coal train to cross the road.  Delaware took us about two hours to cross.

Maryland

The eastern part of Maryland looked much like Delaware, but thankfully it took us less time to cross, about 45 minutes.  We were ready for the next stretch through Virginia.

Virginia’s Eastern Shore

When you cross the state line into Virginia, there’s a sign that welcomes you.  It consists of a Confederate flag with “Dixieland” emblazoned across it.  Below that it says “The South Starts Here”.  Thanks for the reminder.  I wonder how welcome that sign makes my African-American friends feel (Two come to mind that wouldn’t tolerate that shit).  I guess that my beard allows me blend in with the locals, though when they see the New York plates on my car, the jig is up.  I was very careful to keep an eye out for the ubiquitous state troopers.  We were treated to the sight of many roadside establishments, such as Stuckey’s,  selling Virginia hams and fireworks.  The drive was pleasant, though, as the road was lined with blooming crepe myrtle trees.  We arrived at the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and Tunnel after an hour and fifteen minute drive.

Chesapeake Bay Bridge and Tunnel

Or should I say, tunnels.  There are two of them that break up the expanse of this seventeen mile-long stretch that connects the Delmarva peninsula with the “mainland” of Virginia near Norfolk.  As you pass the toll booths and fork over $12 for a one-way trip, you’re treated to a view of the wildlife refuge on Fishermans Island.  I spied several large nests that most likely were made by ospreys.  I was then reminded to keep my eyes on the road.  One of the tunnel entrances features a restaurant and gift shop, which we avoided in order to make time.  The tunnel sections allow large ships to pass through the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay.  During a past visit, we saw a large submarine that must have come from the Norfolk shipyards.  We hauled ass on the bridge-tunnel roadway, crossing in less than twenty minutes.

Hampton Roads

This mainland section of Virginia is known locally as Hampton Roads.  Apparently, a “road” in the nautical sense is a place, other than a harbor, where ships can anchor.  I’ll take their word for it.  I grew up on an island and never heard the term used before.  After crossing the bridge, we exited Route 13 to head east on Route 60.  This may not be the most direct route, but it takes you through a park-like area before morphing into Atlantic Avenue.  We arrived at the Holiday Inn Oceanfront after seven hours of driving.  More on the hotel in an upcoming post.

To wrap it up, we took my gas-guzzling SUV from Long Island, through five states,  to Virginia Beach, without incurring any incidences of mechanical breakdown, traffic violations, or road sickness.  A small miracle.  A larger miracle was making it in seven hours, as my cranky back was thankful.

Check back for my review of the hotel.

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