Lost in the Virginia Hills

In my last post, I began the tale of my trip to West Virginia and Virginia with my girlfriend on a day off from all things school. When we left off, I was heading west on I-64 toward Fredericksburg from Blacksburg, all according to the directions my GPS was giving me.

Part II:

The drive down the Interstate was a very lonely one. The night sky was very dark and was seldom illuminated by anything, even lights at the exits we passed. It was nearing 1:30 a.m. when I got off at the exit we had been directed to. I had already made one mistake and had to turn around, but it was really the device’s fault….stupid thing told me to get back on the road when I had exited at the right one, then it told me to go 9 miles down to the next exit so I could turn around and go back to the one I was just at. *sigh*

Anyhow, back at the proper turn-off, we followed the directions into a dark wooded area. “Where are we going?” Tiffany asked. “I mean, yeah, Fredericksburg is kind of in the boonies, but it isn’t this bad.” At first, though, I didn’t see much wrong with it, since I’ve made similar trips involving back road entrances to towns. However…the lack of a city’s glow as I looked toward the sky ahead unnerved me a bit.

Continuing to trust the GPS, we went down some winding roads, all the time getting farther and farther from well-lit areas (if you can call them well-lit). More than lacking light, the road we were on started lacking civilization. Rickety, abandoned houses, rusted-out tractors and farm equipment, and dense woods began to swallow us. There was no “Welcome to…” sign anywhere. There wasn’t even the feeling of welcome.

But, we pressed on in hope. We finally came to the road that led to our destination of Fredericksburg. It was called Farm House Road, and, as we approached it, our eyes followed its path into a mass of black, empty forested area.

We drove past as panic started to set in.

Honestly, I didn’t panic at first. And I’m not just saying that to sound macho. Was I scared? Yeah. But panicked? Not really. Not…yet…at least. However, Tiffany—having watched her fair share of horror movies—was becoming frightened like I’ve never seen anyone become in my life. As she hyperventilated and shook from terror, I calmly said that we were okay, that nothing bad had happened, and that we were going to find our way back.

There was one big problem, though.

Since we were going to a specific destination and trying to get there quickly, and since I had enough fuel to tide me over until I got to town, I didn’t stop to fill up with gas. Even when we got off at the exit, I was still sitting above E. Besides, we were in a later model car, and I knew it had a gas light. And that wasn’t on yet, so I trudged on.

That was 45 minutes before this point.

Plus, this was our first trip in this car, having only gotten it a day before. So, I had no idea when the light would turn on. Yet, I grew more and more uneasy as the needle began to drop past the last tick on the gauge and settle upon that foreboding letter.

I found a place to turn around as quickly as I could. I traced our way back toward the main road as best I could. However, we began to see street names that we hadn’t before, and this only punctuated our growing fear. We had passed them on the way in, but we began to read the names of streets like Alone Mill Road and Belle Mead. The latter, Tiffany later said, was basically it for her, as she grew up in Nashville where there exists an old plantation of the same name that is said to be very famously haunted.

The crumbling mountain homes began to jump out at us even more, mainly because we were on the outer side of the road we had been traveling and the houses were all on that side, so they were right next to us as we drove by each one. My car stopped once, but only because we had come to a hill and I had let my clutch out too far. Still…the silence clawed at our windows for those 10 seconds. I was terrified. The woods started to remind me of the Blair Witch Project. And the needle only continued to get lower.

We saw a car coming from the opposite direction and breathed slightly easier. I did all I could to flag it down and, upon his stopping, I said to the man driving the truck, “I’m lost and I need to get to the Interstate…and I need to get there now.” He told me to stay straight and that it would spit me out at the main road where the onramp was. As I thanked him, I looked at the back window of his truck to see it being lowered by someone who, no doubt, wanted to see who was speaking in the shuttering tone of voice begging for a way out of the woods. I must have been a sight.

We continued along and came upon a fork. I followed the advice of Yogi Berra and I took it. I just picked a direction. At the same time, I was trying to find close gas stations and call them to see who was open at that time of night. But, no luck there. So, we drove and drove along the crooked way of Turkey Mill, hoping for a sign of relief.

That sign came when I looked up and saw that friendly glow from a nearby town with lights in it. Thank God. But, we still didn’t have clear directions. So, I went on my best judgement. Also, I figured that if I followed the GPS to any gas station, we would at least get out of the forest. So, that’s what I rested on.

And we eventually entered the town of Lexington, VA. Right after passing the city limits, we were flanked n both sides by the ominous granite buildings of Virginia Military Institute. They weren’t as scary as being lost in Blair Witch territory, but they weren’t that friendly-looking, either.

I pulled over and waited for cars to drive by so I could flag them down to ask for the nearest open gas station, which I figured was better than driving around and running out of gas. Two cars approached, and those same two drove right on by. But, I guess I can’t blame them. It’s 2:30 in the morning, I’m a skinny guy with long hair and a leather jacket trying to get someone’s attention in the middle of a dark city street…I guess it’s good that they follow the advice they hear on the evening news. All the same, I was still out of luck.

And, then, an angel approached.

Tiffany pointed out that a girl was walking down the opposite sidewalk. Rolling my window down, I shouted, “ALL I NEED is to find the nearest open gas station.”

“It’s right around that corner,” she said very kindly as she pointed over her right shoulder.

“God bless you. Thank you!” I said as I drove off.

Once we got there, Tiffany handed me her bank card and said, “Put 30, put 50, I don’t care. Just get us out of here.” I walked in to find out how to get to Fredericksburg…or anywhere, really…and the guy greeted me with, “Hey, man, how are you tonight?”

What I said isn’t repeatable here. But I will say it included the words “lost as.”

I talked to one of them and found out we were 2 1/2 hours away from the REAL Fredericksburg. I thanked him, pumped the fuel, and told Tiffany the sorry state of things.

“Well, how far are we from Knoxville?” she asked, offering the only alternative at this point.

“Hmmm…about 5 1/2 hours, I guess.”

“Well, it’s up to you. I just want to get somewhere safe.”

So, we called her friend and we went on to Fredericksburg. The REAL one. We got there about 5:30 or 6 in the morning. She stayed up and talked to her friend Beth for a while, and I found a place to crash. I finally woke up about 12 noon. Then we sat around and chatted, and I got to meet one of Tiff’s best friends and gain approval. I played with her pet snakes and her Nintendo Wii. Then we printed off MapQuest directions, took some silly pictures, and headed home to Knoxville.

Of course, after stopping at Sheetz to get some food…and gas.

~ by Jonathan on December 17, 2007.