Highway Through Hell

Just now I was listening to Eminem (don't judge me!) and it reminded me of my first (and hopefully only) time in Detroit.

It was the very end of October, 2010, and my best friend and I were on our way to see one of our favorite bands. They're called Mt. Desolation and they're from England. They had just ended their time in the western U.S. where they opened for our favorite band, Mumford & Sons. They weren't, however, going to be opening for them in the mid-west. So, as a last minute addendum to our already epic road-trip to see (you guessed it) Mumford & Sons, we added a solo Mt. D date at the beginning of our journey. Detroit, here we come!

Twelve miles into my trip, before I even picked up my friend, Rachel, I had a run-in with the law. I was pulled over just north of Lebanon for speeding in a construction zone. You know, everywhere else in the universe, you're only required to slow down if lights are flashing and workers are present. It was 5:30. No orange vests were in sight. While fines weren't, in fact, doubled...they were still doled out harshly (and, in my opinion, unfairly). I sulked, tucked that yellow piece of paper into my glove compartment box, quickly posted to a picture of my odometer at 12 miles (only a few minutes earlier, it seemed, I'd posted one at zero miles)and with a message about getting a ticket, and then I was back on the road. Detroit, here we come! ...again!

I picked up Rachel, opened my birthday present in a truck stop parking lot (a red buffalo plaid fleece blanket and a "Peace, Love & Banjos" bumper sticker!) and then barreled back down the highway. That was until we crossed over into Michigan. Almost immediately across the state line, we came to a dead stop. There was absolutely nothing around us but big rigs and black night. Ten minutes. Nothing was on the highway advisory station. Twenty minutes. We were going to be a little later. Thirty minutes later...we finally moved. We never saw anything to explain why we were stopped for so long. I'm still a little bitter about that. But we sighed happily at just the feeling of the road passing under beneath us. Detroit, here we come! ...eventually.

We hit Detroit with practically no warning at all. As a matter of fact, I wasn't even entirely sure we were in Detroit until I saw the bright green 8 Mile sign quickly approaching. I forced Rachel to snap pictures for me with my cell phone and both our cameras. It was 8 Mile! Home of Eminem! I have no idea just how far off I-75 you have to drive in order to get to the trailer park where the rapper grew up...it could be miles and miles. It didn't matter, though. It was the sign! It was a sight to see! It was a photographic moment! Detroit! We've arrived!

A few miles past downtown, we got off the highway and we were immediately lost. My family's motto has always been, "We're not lost. We're having an adventure." We can make the worst wrong turn into an epic journey and the smallest no-named town into a barrel of laughs. In Detroit, however, I truly felt lost. The week before we left, a friend had joked to me that all of the street signs in Detroit had been stolen. I laughed. I was ignorant. The massive highway signs are still there(-ish), obviously. However, once I exited the highway I was greeted by one unmarked intersection after another. I had no idea where I was at, much less how far I had until I got to where I was going, or even how I was supposed to know when I go to my destination! Detroit! Where the hell are we?!

Our saving grace came from a fellow fan girl. Rach knew here from her days of swooning over The Killers. She was from Michigan and we were going to meet her at the Mt. D gig. She didn't live in the area where the concert was, so it still took us a few "Right-right or right-lefts?" and illegal U-turns, but we eventually made it to the concert...halfway through the set. The second half was worth all the extra gas, used cell phone minutes and exasperated groans, though. Detroit! It wasn't a complete waste of our time!

After the show we were headed toward Milwaukee for the next stop on our "epic adventure"-Milwaukee. Of course, we had to get out of Detroit, first. We started going the right direction, but I doubted myself. We called Rachel's friend who told us we needed to go the other direction. Ten minutes later, though, I was absolutely certain that I was going the right direction the first time. We didn't make it out of Detroit until nearly an hour after the concert had ended. We were tired and beat, but we weren't about to spend a night in a town with no signs of hope (or helpful directions). Detroit! ...yeah, whatever.

Ann Arbor! What's up?!