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According To You: Worst Stops on a Road Trip?
The phrase “took an unexpected turn” isn’t something we generally find appealing, but that’s what can happen on a road trip. This is the type of story we asked of you last week, and your responses did not disappoint. The responses were very relatable for most of us, but there was one surprising outlier on a very special road trip. I mean, this one was really a doozy.
So let’s begin with that very unique story, and see where the rest of our delightful readers took us after that!
East German Border Control and Chocolates
Rick S: The year was 1980, and I had just finished up a travel marketing event (the ITB) in Berlin. After a few days of rest, a good friend and I set off to drive from Berlin to Brussels. Please remember, this was before the Berlin Wall came down, so Germany was split into East and West and the East was under extremely harsh communist control. We set off and the first stop was Customs into East Germany. “Passports,” and there was no “please” here.
“Get out of the car and wait there.” They searched everything and mirrored underneath, finding nothing. The chocolate was well-hidden.
After a few hours we thought our last stop would be a petrol station with a small and dubious restaurant. I’ve seen dilapidated places before and this was one of them. There was only one item on the “menu” and we ordered it—a hearty bowl of water and a potato flavored with a well used pork bone. The other patrons stared and stared, and were not allowed to ask us questions, but they were eying our clothes while they seemed to enjoy their soup. Their clothing was probably never new and mostly gray. We left and never drove through East Germany again.
Traveling in East Germany at the time had to timed just right. The East German police gave us X amount of time to reach the border of the West, with no time for any side excursions. We could have been spies ya know. They never found the chocolate.
Not All Lodging Is Created Equal
David C: My wife and I were relocating from Seattle to Austin via car. We stopped at a national motel chain where they leave the lights on for you. I believe the room next to ours was occupied by a person or people engaged in the retail sale of illegal substances. At some point in the middle of the night, the police began banging on their door, or maybe some other door nearby. Cue dogs barking as well. Needless to say, we couldn’t wait to get out of there in the morning.
Greg M: Stayed at a B&B while going to a big Buick Club show in Allentown. The room was about the size of a large closet, the shower wouldn’t drain if you stayed in longer than a minute, and the lock on the door was pretty much like a closet door (only much less functional). It actually had an old style stick in the keyhole lock, which you could override by jiggling a little. All this for, I think, $130 a night. The owners came in on their way to their day jobs for about a half-hour to do breakfast for the guests. Can you say “ripoff?”
hyperv6: We were we in Washington, D.C., and having spent a lot of time around town I was dead tired. The hotel was next to the FAA building off the Mall. It was a moderate upscale place but some idiot set off the fire alarm in the middle of the night. A few minutes later I am out in the D.C. streets half-awake at 3 AM.
DUB6: In 2014, as the wife and I were returning west from an east coast trip, we stopped for the night at a low budget motel right off the freeway in Columbus, Ohio, just across from entertainment complex called Magic Mountain. The management felt compelled to put a big sticker on the inside of the door, alerting customers that “For Your Protection, When In Room, Engage Deadbolt and Security Latch.”
When I went out to get some things from the car after dark, I understood why—let’s just say that the other clientele and some of the “visitors” were just a tad unsavory! I didn’t sleep well at all, and had to look out the rooms window several times to see if our vehicle was still outside – don’t know what I was going to do if it wasn’t, though. I really expected it to at least be up on cinder blocks in the morning, but nothing seemed to be touched. I hadn’t felt safe all night and couldn’t get back on the road quickly enough. The next night, we treated ourselves to a suite in an upscale hotel with a secured parking garage!
Paul M: I’m going the other way here. I’ve stayed and lived among some very, very unsavory characters. I may have been one of them at the time but memories get fuzzy. Still, birds of feather flock together as they say, so probably.
The worst are those quaint overpriced out-of-the-way B&Bs. The last resort in both senses of the word. Just squeaky old furniture with no real creature comforts. You could at least put a TV in that supposedly antique garage sale armoire so I can watch the news.
I really don’t want to have breakfast with the other guests first thing in the morning who think I sat on their “tell me your story button.” Far from it. Just give me clean sheets, an in room coffee maker, and the AAA discount when I haggle for it even though I’m not a member.
Get Out of Dodge?
Dean: We were on our way to Colorado from Michigan, my son, wife and me, and decided to take the southern route through Kansas. We were pulling our old Airstream with a Ram pick up. We stopped at Eldorado State Park and it was nice, but in the afternoon the camp hosts stopped by and warned us of a possible tornado. Not worry, though. If you hear the siren, just head to the restrooms, which are, and I’m not kidding, Kevlar lined and rebar- and brick-reinforced concrete. I left the truck attached to the camper, just in case, but no siren came.
The next morning we cut out of there and headed to Dodge City. I worked for Chrysler, so I thought a stay in Dodge City was mandatory. Cool as Dodge City is, it just happened to smell really bad due to the cows, so Dodge City was out. Time was not on our side as we headed west and we were running out of towns with campgrounds, but happened on Garden City. Pulled into what looked like an old KOA, and it didn’t smell too bad, so we decided to make a night of it. I should have known better when I saw the gang of Chihuahuas outside while we checked in. Mean little buggers. The attendee was very nice though, and showed us to a spot in the park. It seems we were the only transient people there, and after meeting a few of our park and set neighbors, we realized that they all worked next door at the windmill assembly facility or across town at the meat processing plant. Sadly, as we set up, the wind shifted and it became highly unpleasant.
I was fairly wiped out from driving and worrying about tornados and killer tiny dogs, but our son really wanted to swim in the pool. Fine. Get your suit on and we’ll head over there. I spent a good hour cleaning the pool and filters and sweeping all the leaves away. I honestly enjoy that type of work. As soon as I was done, all the park and sets saw the cleaned out pool and decided that that was the place to be and we were soon mobbed, but our son had a great time, and that’s all that matters.
Restrooms
Duke W: Decades ago, when I-94 was being built and connecting to the IN toll road, there was a short stretch of country road that had a gas station with a restroom so vile that I imagined things crawling out of the plumbing. It was enough to scare this college kid to pee outside in the winter. A local sheriff joined me.
Isaiah: I mean, we’ve probably all stopped at a restroom and wondered about the sanity of the people that used it before us.
Natural Disasters And Detours
Chris: Our worst was on an ill-fated trip to the Rockies. After enduring the rain that caused the Big Thompson River flood disaster, our planned itinerary was to go to Mount Rushmore. While on our planned route, we saw a sign stating “shortest route to Mount Rushmore” or words to that effect. Note it did not say “fastest.” It took us through Custer State Park. As we followed a State of South Dakota dump truck around several “pigtail” turns on, at most, a 1-1/2 lane road, we realized our mistake.
We got to Mount Rushmore later than planned, making us late to our planned, but with no reservations, lodging for the night in Rapid City. We missed getting their last room, which turned out to be the area’s last room, by mere minutes. The next closest motel was in Spearfish. When we got there, well after dark and after driving along narrow canyon roads with lightning flashing overhead (Big Thompson reference above) we discovered that the local state college was having a reunion, and there were no rooms available in town. We slept in the car, at a highway rest area.
Alan C: In 1997, my son and I made a road trip from Dallas, TX, to Florida to visit several schools he was considering attending. We planned to stop overnight after the first day of driving. Unfortunately, we chose to make this trip starting on July 3rd and all the hotels were booked solid for the 4th of July holiday. Without any reasonable alternatives, we decided to stop for the night at a campground in Pascagoula, MS, and sleep in our car.
It was incredibly hot and humid. We drove around trying to find any businesses with air-conditioning where we could stay and cool off for a few hours, but everything was closed. We drove back to the campground and tried to sleep. Once in a while, we would start the car to run the air-conditioning for a few minutes, but it was absolutely miserable with the heat, humidity, and mosquitoes. Finally, we gave up and continued driving through the night. We were exhausted but at least we were comfortably cool.
Although it’s been almost 30 years since then, and my son is grown now with a wife and family of his own, we still occasionally talk about that night spent together in Pascagoula.
In the late 60s my parents would drive from WI to MS to visit my brother. My Dad had a 67 Buick Skylark 2 door hardtop. Near St. Louis, my Dad wasn’t able to avoid some road debris. It turned out be a hunk of metal that fell off something. It ripped a hole in the gas tank and we began leaking. He stopped at a Pontiac dealer for the repair. It took a few hours which ended up being OK with me. Sitting on their showroom floor with ropes around it was the brand new 1970 Trans Am. White with blue guts. My little 9 year old self walked around that car for hours. I’m sure my parents didn’t enjoy the car problem as much as I did that day. It did put us a day late getting to our destination and it goes to show you never know what will happen on a road trip.
Well, there was that time back in ’85 when my good friend Brian and I decided to drive to Florida for spring break in my new Camaro IROC-Z. On our return trip, the integral-to-distributor-cap ignition coil decided to take early retirement. There we were in the sleepy hamlet of St. Augustine Florida, stranded for a few days until the local Chevy dealer could get a new coil. Between the salty character who towed us off the highway, to his employee who offered to take us to “a club” (where collared shirts were mandatory, but if you didn’t happen to be wearing one on the way in, they’d give you one), it was a very interesting few days. And GM was kind enough to reimburse our lodging expenses! Had I known THAT when it happened, we might have stayed at a place just a LITTLE more upscale.
My wife and our 4 kids (under 12) on a long road trip stopped at a fairly nice motel for the night. About 10 we were awakened with the sounds of a couple in the room behind us making whoopee. She was very engaged and talking loudly about his prowess. After finishing they proceeded to have a smoke and then a second round of enjoyment. We heard them leave and finally fell asleep. An hour later she was back again with another “client” and another two rounds. Luckily the kids were exhausted from traveling but we marked that place as a “no sleep motel” for our future trips.
Actually not all that bad. Heading to NC down Rt 81 blew an engine in my ‘89 Sonata that was way overdue a timing belt replacement. Fortunately we were near a Hyundai dealership and had already planned on dumping the car the following weekend. Chose our new Santa Fe (end of model year deal on a high end model), rented a car to finish our journey (only about another 100 miles), and picked up the new car on the way home. Residual value on the Sonata paid for the towing and car rental (as I recall).
OMG! Garden City!
Was running teams in 1975.
First surprise storm of the season.
Managed to make it to a tiny restaurant/truck stop
Next day, woke up and opened the door on the freight liner with snow level to the door bottom.
Stuck there with several other people for a week.
At the end of our stay, the only person that stunk was the waitress who lived above the diner.
Thanks for the memory.
I had the trip to southwest Colorado that started out just fine in Texas but turned into a hard rain in the fading hours of daylight near Colorado on unfamiliar roads and then eventually the temps started to drop to almost freezing while climbing in elevation. The only good thing was the temps slowly started to rise as we crested the top of the road and eventually just before getting to the hotel late at night we made it. The car tires were not happy at elevation with standing water everywhere and I was concerned it was going to hit freezing or turn to snow. A little more elevation it likely would have. I’m rarely this uncomfortable while driving and was genuinely concerned for what could have and almost was. The rest of the trip was great.
Where do I start?
1. Top of the mountain on I-25, heading downhill to Trinidad, CO in my Renault 4CV. Accelerator cable froze, couldn’t let off the throttle. Had to coast with the engine off and in gear to save those 7″ drum brakes for the exit ramp. Wife following in her VW thought I was trying to kill us both with my speed until I explained why I was going as fast as I was.
2. I-71 heading south from Akron in a November snowstorm. No, a blizzard. 20 mph, one lane open. Snow was clogging the grille; car (BMW 2002) was running hot, so heater on full blast. Wipers clogging with snow, so periodically we’d open the sunroof to (1) let the heat out and (2) wife could reach out and knock the snow off the wiper blades. Got off the interstate north of Mansfield and got a motel–actually a 1940s Motor Court–for the night. Found out the next day a semi jack-knifed just south of Mansfield and closed the interstate for 18 hours.
3. 1966, Florida Gulf Coast. No I-10 yet, so on US 90/98. After a long day’s drive we had to stop. Carrabelle FL. at the eponymous motel. Their only motel. Some sketchy characters hanging around; motel’s exterior door was a hollow core, interior door. Pushed the chest of drawers in front of the door for “extra security.”
4. Dayton to New Hampshire; overnight stop planned for Scranton PA again in my 2002. No vacancies there, or any other town on my route north. Fog so thick in northern New York and Vermont that I was straddling the road’s center line to keep from straying off the pavement. Fortunately no other fools on the road. Finally arrived at the NH Welcome Station at 4:30 am after 21 hours on the road. Slept in “Motel 02” for a couple of hours, and then drove the final 50 miles to my destination.
I could go on…and on…
Thank God I don’t go anywhere the cars can stay in the garage and stay pretty ( sort of)
Brilliant play DUB6: Suggest a question that can be answered with your story. My hat is off to you sir!
Not a road trip, per se, but still humorous now to look back on.
In 1981, my uncle and aunt asked me and my soon to be wife if we wanted to fly from Chicago to Oshkosh Wi for the EAA fly in for Sunday. We met at their house, it was a beautiful warm summer day and we were all dressed in shorts and light shirts. As Mary and I had never been in a small plane before, the flight up was a treat for us in the little Cessna. Once we got there, all the different planes! Experimental, old restored bi-planes, the war birds. The fly bys and acrobatics were amazing.
But the day had to end, so we got back in the plane and taxied out to wait our turn to depart. To the south and west the sky had turned dark with storms imminent. Then they shut the airport down. Try as we could, we could not get a room within 50 miles of our location. So once we had the plane tied back down, we braved the rain, got some food from the concession stand and the 4 of us retired for the night in the Cessna 172.
Between the wind rocking the plane, the mosquitoes that would swarm inside if we opened a window for ventilation, or my aunts snoring, I did not sleep a wink more than a few minutes here and there. Mary slept quite soundly in the little space inside that tiny plane. I think the back seat of my Pinto was far more spacious!
In the morning, we all lined up at the phone booth to call our jobs telling them we wouldn’t be in for work that day. It was also cloudy, windy and about 50 degrees , so we all went and bought EAA sweatshirts to try to stay warm. Certainly this was my most memorable overnight stop!
We drove out to California from near Galveston TX in the early 70’s to visit some friend of my dads in LA and went through Sequoia National Forest before heading home. Dad had a ’69 C20 with a cabover camper. We stopped at a KOA in Yuma AZ that was just a big black asphalt parking lot with hookups sticking out. Who was the genius that thought a black asphalt parking lot would make a good campground in the middle of the summer? The water coming out of the hose after sundown was too hot to stick your hand in and the heat caused the hose to burst sometime during the night.
Our trip back home for a visit from Denver to northern Ohio in July was in my future wife’s brand new company car, a Chevy Citation. The company paid for a visit to a car audio shop to install an under dash tape deck to take the place of the one it was supposed to come with. Middle of the night at about 90 degrees and she kicked off her sandles to find the floor was soaked. Figuring out quickly it was condensate from the A/C we had to shut it off. A few hours later we couldn’t take it anymore and stopped at an exit off I-70. I crawled under the dash while she stood next to me chomping on her bubble gum. I found a hole the installer drilled in the plenum and looked up at her and “spit it out”, that gum was still there when the car got turned in several years later.
I had an entirely unplanned road trip. I was in Austin, Texas for work just before Labor Day. My family had plans to head to northern Michigan for the weekend from our southeastern Michigan home. I arrived at the airport on a sunny Thursday evening at about 5:00 p.m. only to be told that my flight had been cancelled due to weather in Dallas. The airline offered to pay for lodging and a meal and to put me on a morning flight the next day. Instead, I went to the rental car counter and rented a car that I would drop off in Detroit. During my lonely drive across Texas, I arrived in Dallas to find clear skies. I called the travel agent to get me on a flight home from Dallas but was told that there were no flights. I drove on. I made it to Little Rock, Arkansas at about 2:00 a.m., called the emergency number for the travel agent and got a room and a seat on an airplane going to Nashville and then Detroit. I asked confused clerk at the hotel desk for a 5:00 wake up call. At the Little Rock airport, the Hertz car return wasn’t yet open, so I just left the car. When I finally arrived home, my wife had the car packed with our two sons and luggage and I drove four hours north to our vacation destination. The kicker was that if I had taken the room, the meal and the morning flight out of Austin, I would have arrived home at the same time.
Long story. Summer, 1981. I was headed from Chicago to Denver for a Corvair convention, with a stop in Phoenix to see relatives. I was flat towing my V8 Corvair (Corv 8) with my 65 Corvair. Yes, I’ve towed all over the country with a Corvair. Somewhere in Oklahoma, the L/R tire of the Corv 8 had a tread separation. The tread’s steel belts turned the L/R fender to black, with tons of scratches in my new Imron paint. Put a spare on, and continued. Got to Tucumcari NM, and found that the R/R was going to do the same. Put on my only other spare. Got to Phx. Discovered a large crack in the engine subframe in the Corv 8, and another crack in the body where the diff bolted to the former firewall. Unable to fix the subframe, but did get the body crack fixed. Took off for Denver, got 20 miles up I17 and BOOM, loud knocking from the Corvair engine. Got to a rest area, removed the rocker arms and pushrods from the offending cylinder, and took off again on 5 cylinders. Turns out a valve guide fell out. Continued on to Denver on 5 cylinders towing the V8. Did you know that it almost entirely uphill toward Denver? Full throttle and 3d gear were the norm for that trip. In Flagstaff, I stopped for gas, and the attendant saw my two bias spare tires, and sold me 2 used radials, so at least I had 2 spares again. Made it to Denver. Leaving Denver, it was 5 cylinders all the way to Chicago. Funny part is: My gas mileage went from about 16 mpg up to 19! I guess engines work better at full throttle! Made it home with no further troubles. What a LONG journey that was.