The Great Woodstock Story - Part 11

In this continuing series I detail my adventures at Woodstock ?99.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9 and Part 10 to catch up.

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Ahead of me, in the scorching heat of the July sun, I saw a couple stop and talk to the person driving the car ahead of me. It was then I noticed something in my rearview mirror: A car was moving. Another car was darting off in the opposite direction?opposite the actual entrance. How were they getting out?

The car ahead of my did the back-and-forth turnaround thing and I followed suit. Wherever they were going, it was better than where I was. I was NOT prepared to run out of gas waiting to leave.

Around the Air Force base was a road encompassing the entire facility. Around it were gates that had been unlocked to unflow traffic. I happen to catch the crest of that wave and behind me, almost in sitcom style, was a long, fast moving snake of cars trailing me to the exit. But it didn?t matter?I was free! I was ready to leave Woodstock!

I gassed up the car and couldn?t stop grinning. I had done it! I went to Woodstock! And I did it alone! By my own wits! My own man! It was an odd rite of passage and I was living it up next to the unleaded pump.

I drove with a steady conviction directly to my next destination: McDonalds. Yeah, I know it wasn?t fancy, and Mickey D?s isn?t even that great anyway, but it was there. I studied the combo meals, thinking of the largest combinations. Double quarter pounder. Super Sized. Chocolate Shake for the drink.

Ohhh?.yeah. And I digested that meal for six hours while I traversed the I-81 landscape through the state of Virginia. It took me until almost 5PM just to leave Woodstock. With the stopping and starting, finding my car, getting a boost, getting stuck in traffic and gassing up, every little detour adds up, and the day quickly fell into night.

I had been listening to Woodstock on live radio, but turned it off after a while. I didn?t find out of the looting and burning and destruction until after I was home.

But no matter, on I drove. It was nearing 3AM. I had a little something-something along for the ride, turning me on auto-pilot, keeping me alert and giggly.

CRUNK

What was that? The car?it came from the bottom of the car?

CRUNK CRUNK

The car shifts?moves itself to one side. I hear metal griding?

CRRRRRUNK

Then nothing. The radio blasting?I turn it off. The night is quiet and my heart is beating in my ear s.

I look at the dash?everything?s fine. I say this out loud, repeating it to myself.

I pass a sign. Some random highway, some 3 digit number, some noname town.

1 mile.

I push the gas. The speedometer doesn?t move.

My heart races. Blood pounding in my ears I search for the safety lights, the triangle where is the damn?there it is. The button was on the steering column.

I saw what I thought was a bridge up the slope ahead of me. I was going downward, drifting quickly, but decellerating all the same.

This car was coming to a stop. I hit the gas again. I heard the engine rev, but the car didn?t move.

Oh. Boy.

Tomorrow: Sleeping on pavement and strangers at 4AM.

Read Part 12

The lonely light of morning
The wound that would not heal