Haven't you driven before?

This SF Weekly article on driving the I-5 was not nearly so funny as I had hoped it would be, although I do give it points for the line "I also spend a lot of time thinking about fast and efficient rail service connecting San Francisco and Los Angeles that makes way too much sense to ever really happen." It's funny because it's true. The rest? Not so much.

Blame experiential bias. I spend a lot of time on I-5, or The Five as it's called in some parts, because I spend a lot of time going back and forth to the Bay Area for assorted reasons. So if anyone if going to talk about the suckage on The Five, I am well-qualified. Aside from this guy, that is.

The peak incident: on one drive back over a summer weekend, I ran into not one, not two, but THREE separate accidents that shut down and/or diverted southbound traffic. Tragically, the last one happened right before the 33-mile stretch where there are no services whatsoever.

Even more tragically for me, the 72 ounces of water I had drunk worked their way to the logical endpoint of the digestive system right as I hit the backup. Until I was creeping along dusty backroads and gazing upon beanfields as far as the eye could see, I had never known it was possible to drive cross-legged. For three hours.

(By the way, in all three incidents, all people directly resposible for the accidents were fine.)

However, there are worse things than The Five, and with a little preparation, the trips can even be pleasant. I cope by observing the following guidelines:

Embrace the total, awesome, pseudo-Danish cheesiness of Pea Soup Anderson's. Not ever eatery you goes to has to be the ne plus ultra of urban hipster chic. Pea Soup Anderson's got enough kitsch to keep ironists happily occupied through the pea soup course. More importantly, it has large, clean bathrooms. Most importantly, you can get a reasonably healthy, reasonably tasty, reasonably priced meal. Consider your other options on The Five, and Pea Soup Anderson's becomes divine in comparison. Plus you can't hate a place with a giant windmill.

For the love of Frank, don't stop in Kettlemen City. I know the only In'N'Out within reasonable rolling distance of The Five is there. I know you're the type of person who is all, "If I have to have fast food, let it be In'N'Out. I read Fast Food Nation, you know." But you know what? This time, you will be the type of person who rolls on down a little further and sucks it up at McDonald's or Carl's, Jr.

Ordering at the In'N'Out at Kettlemen City is the fast-food equivalent of trying to get on the last U.S. helicopter out of Saigon. Bodies flying everywhere, desperate parents pressing their children into the arms of strangers, babies crying, total pandemonium. Skip it.

Get an iPod already. No, really. Also get the recharger thingie so your precious doesn't lose power somewhere around Gustine. And before you get in the car, make up a few really long playlists. Your individual preferences might vary, but I suggest sticking to the kind of music that you can sing along to lustily in the car. If you're driving by yourself, make a playlist comprised solely of all your iPod's guilty little secrets you've stashed in there -- yes, the Poison song and the Spice Girls one. Then give it a deceptive-sounding name so anyone who's scrolling through your music won't be curious and stumble over proof of your appalling tastes. And drive in sweet solitude as Debbie Gibson tells you that as real as it may seem, love was only in her dreams.

Speaking of Gustine, your trip will go a lot faster if you just give in to your most juvenile impulses and begin making jokes about place names. Bonus: it'll also provide you with landmarks, thus chopping up the interminable drive into more managable chunks. I will never visit Taft, Twisselman, Firebaugh, Bosco, Gustine, or Westley but I'm glad to see the signs now because it helps me break up the trip.

Plan ahead and pack a cooler. You'll feel better for not inhaling an overpriced bag of Dorito roll-up thingies if you've got your preferred snacks already in the car. A foam cooler's all of $4 at the drugstore. Ice ain't a lot more. Get a six-pack of soda, some food you can eat while driving (cherry tomatoes, baby carrots, seedless grapes, and okay, some Cheezits) and a packet of wet wipes.

I'm suggesting foam because you can ditch it without remorse if you're dealing with clutter or passengers on the return leg, but serious travelers/ecotypes will want to invest in a cooler, be it small enough for a six-pack or big enough to share a few six-packs. Of soda. California's got the open-container law, you know.

Last but certainly not at all least: drive at night. You'll have three advantages in doing so: the traffic is thinner, you won't get vaguely irritated by the scenery (or lack thereof), and you can amuse yourself by seeing how many yuppies have pacified little Montrose and Madison by plugging a DVD into the on-board media system*. It's kind of cool to pull up behind an Expedition, catch a moment of Finding Nemo, then blow by the gas-guzzler on the open road. My night-time L.A./S.F. trip times, on average: 6.25 hours, including a stop to refill gas and 2 bathroom breaks. The same drive during the day? Takes me about 7.75 hours on average -- and feels like 10.

You can't control traffic, you can't control the Tule fog, but there's plenty about your road trip you can control. Do it. It takes only a little time, but when you're staring down 5+ hours in the car, it's totally worth it.

* Why this practice repels me is another rant for another time. I promise.

Comments

[Vic]

This might just be my favorite Rage Diaries entry ever. As a former frequent I-5 traveler, I have only two things to add:

Pea Soup Anderson's RULES (though I just realized I've never actually ordered the pea soup -- must get around to that at some point). The gift shop is particularly kitschy-awesome.

No list of goofy I-5 landmarks would be complete without the one and only Buttonwillow, CA.

[Lisa]

Oh, dude, I ALWAYS stop in Buttonwillow. The Carl's, Jr. there is a nice place to stretch my legs and get a drink.

Also, I'm glad you liked the entry. Feedback is always helpful.

[KT]

I only stopped at the In n'Out in Kettleman City once ever and I swear to god some small and furry thing ran across the kitchen floor while I was waiting in the drive-through line looking in the kitchen window. I usually just bring snacks and stop at the rest stops to break and eat the snacks.

I read a really creepy article about Buttonwillow in the LA Weekly a long time ago about all of the murders that take place there.

Finally, the DVD/SUV thing reminds me of the most offensive ad I saw in the latest Entertainment Weekly. It had a picture of an SUV with a woman in the front driving and three kids in the back with a boy playing a video game and two girls giggling over some teeny bop movie on their separate TV screens in the back. And it says "It's the closest thing to a chauffeur driven limo--a mom-driven mini-van or SUV." EW! OKay, first of all, someone always had to sit in front when I was growing up. It was considered insufferably rude for us to treat our parents as chauffeurs. Also, why does it have to be mom driving? What the hell? How liberating, soccer moms are the new 1950s housewives. Yay.

[Twiss]

Twisselman isn't a town; it's a road that crosses 5 but otherwise doesn't really go anywhere. My great-grandmother was responsible for it due to a non-producing oil well on the east side. We should be so lucky to have our own town but I would have rather had the oil.

[Lisa]

Oh my gosh -- a live Twisselman sharing information on that exit! Thanks for stopping by.