We had 48 hours. Make a round trip to Atlanta, Georgia, from DFW, in a Sportage. Retrieve a very specific desk from IKEA, and make it back in one piece. Optionally, visit some new cities and squeeze in exercise while driving over 1600 miles.

Expanding on this a bit … after yearly relocations for the past several years, accompanied by downsizing in line with The More of Less, one of our party had finally hit the point where furniture consolidation dictated getting rid of the two desk combination from Container Store and IKEA. To replace the work desk and the music desk with one piece of furniture was going to require some inventive squeezing, and after a long search, IKEA won again with … FREDDE.

Of course, being 2021, which was looking a lot like 2020: The Completely Crappy Sequel, this particular piece of furniture in the desired white finish, was not only unavailable anywhere in Texas, Arizona, or Kansas, but no one at IKEA could even tell when or if it would be available again.

Not being averse to getting in the car and heading for points elsewhere, and looking at the calendar and the potential for having to sit on the floor of the new apartment for work, it was time to expand the net. Lo and behold, inventory found in … Atlanta.

This is the story of a poorly planned and nearly disastrous journey in search of the elusive FREDDE.

Friday 2021 02 12

Given over 800 miles one way, and a two-day window for the entire drive, we determined we’d get as far east as possible, with the plan of picking up the desk mid-morning the next day, and immediately heading as far back west as we could stand.

The minimal plan involved getting from DFW to Tuscaloosa if at all possible. Against all odds, the trip started off on-time, letting us get out of DFW without hours of sitting in traffic. We stocked up on coffee with a traveler from our local Summer Moon, but still needed food. After a short diversion to Schlotsky’s in Terrell, we were back on the highway. Sticking to one of the most unexciting highways in Texas in the interest of time, we kept the cruise control as far above the speed limit as we could. Passing Tyler, we could see some of the piney woods as the dark settled in, but that excitement faded quickly. Lack of scenery wasn’t really a problem as we were soon driving in the dark.

Crossing into Louisiana, we flashed back to our very first visit to Shreveport. Having run out of coffee and needing to get rid of what we’d already consumed, we stopped in Bossier City, LA, at the loudest coffee shop in the world. While we were there, a birthday party (despite still being mid-pandemic) complete with a Disney princess in costume and a small army of grade-school girls was raging through the restaurant, while we attempted to order coffee. Trying not to yell at the barista through our masks, we finally acquired caffeine and returned to the dark non-scenery of I-20 in Louisiana.

Multiple tedious hours later, we rolled over the Mississippi. Thankful that we at least didn’t have to see eastern Louisiana and its flat muddy farmland again, we were reminded that despite its impressive size, the Mississippi River is one of the least scenic bodies of water in the continental United States. A little over halfway to our goal, we needed a break from the car. Vicksburg probably has as much history packed into it as Natchez, and the same impoverished heritage as the rest of this state seems to have. This translates into aging buildings and streets and houses, jammed up against blaring and glaring casinos and weird late night crowds at gas stations.

A note at this point that will have more relevance on day two, but we were already dealing with patches of ice as we crossed the Vicksburg Bridge. Adding to the excitement of the rushed schedule, a possibly severe cold front and associated ice and snow events were expected to follow us to Georgia. We could feel this as we walked, with the temperatures dropping rapidly and damp cold making us want to walk quickly. We managed to grab a few pictures of the darkened city, and made notes that one day we’d like to revisit in daylight.

Trying to economize time, we needed gas and bathrooms. This being late on a Friday night in Vicksburg, up the road from several casinos, the available options were going to be interesting. While one of us filled the car up, the other dared the women’s restroom. The holes in the bathroom wall were only noticed after using the facilities …

Escaping the zoo of Circle K, we jumped onto the freeway but quickly realized dark wouldn’t be the only challenge – coming around the hilly curve leading into Mississippi, we saw the first of many wrecks that we’d encounter this weekend. Ice was starting to stick on the freeway, and combined with fatigue, made for a nerve-wracking ride through fog and past increasing numbers of cars sliding off the road. Finally passing into Jackson after midnight, there were serious considerations about stopping, but we pushed on. Cross 3 state lines and cover 600+ miles on a Friday after work? No problem.

Having made a reservation in Tuscaloosa while navigating across the state, we arrived and checked in around 2AM Saturday. Eyes burning, over-wired with caffeine and nervous exhaustion, we peered out the hotel windows for a moment before crashing into the most comfortable bed we’d ever been in.

Saturday 2021 02 13

Knowing that any exercise we’d get would have to happen before starting another marathon drive, we crawled out of bed as the sun announced itself. One of our party is aware of colleges and associated sports, and the other one takes her word for it. Turns out that Tuscaloosa is Crimson Tide land. Fortunately, it is also a land of running and cycling trails and a lot of other physical fitness focus, with a trail leading from our nicely appointed hotel straight up the Black Warrior River past the campus.

Despite the overcast, and having emerged from sub-freezing weather the evening before, it was a muggy 60 degrees, leading us to shed layers quickly as we tried to drum up enthusiasm for running on too little sleep. Hearing loud voices ahead on the river, we slowed to watch the women’s and men’s rowing crew team s practice. Impressed by the fact that they were definitely working harder than we were, we tried to put a little more pep in our steps.

Intending to make a round trip, but feeling the very late night and unseasonably warm morning, we stopped the run early, one of us blaming the available coffee trailer spotted at the Farmer’s Market. Coffee acquired, we determined that the farmer’s market was a different animal in Alabama that back at home – more “arts and crafts market” than “locally sourced food market.” Given our remaining travel schedule, we skipped acquiring eggs, and worked our way back to the hotel. While comfortable for sleeping, the Hotel Indigo had some work to do on their breakfast preparation. Getting checked out, we figured we’d find something later in the day.

Not having time to explore the campus, we did try to capture a few pictures. Maybe another trip to collect an actual on-campus run …

After a quick stop for more caffeine, it was time to scoot to Atlanta. Pandemic precariousness meant that we actually had a scheduled pickup time for FREDDE, and neither of us wanted to risk having driven all this way to return empty-handed. Realizing our morning in Tuscaloosa lasted several hours longer than it should have, we set the cruise on illegal speeds and focused on dodging speed traps.

In contrast to retail centers in Texas, where square miles of parking lots surround every building, and there are at least 20 entrances to every mall, IKEA Atlanta is squeezed into a refurbished retail and warehouse district slightly northwest of downtown.

Atlanta traffic is legendarily awful on a good day, and we were there on a Saturday afternoon during a pandemic, where everything was already taking ten times as long as normal. Interpreting the less than intuitive directional signage around the building, we managed to steal a parking spot in the back, and tried to use the magic of the internet to let the overworked IKEA warehouse team know we were ready to relieve them of the desk.

Seeing a line of pandemic-standard-spaced customers waiting to enter the building, and having had no response to our request for loading of the FREDDE, we had to wonder where were all these people going on this gloomy afternoon in the middle of the pandemic?

One of our party decided to brave the crowded loading area to see if anyone could assist with the desk. The other was in need of a walk and a bathroom. Looking at a map, it appeared a McDonald’s about a half mile from IKEA would help with both. Heading off towards the Golden Arches resulted in a few encounters with the homeless of Atlanta, who were admittedly quite the courteous crowd. While walking, there was a quick stop to capture an aging and slightly battered building, with the expectation that it was something exciting: maybe an old prison, or an abandoned school, or a mental asylum. Turns out it’s just part of the water treatment plant nearby. Such a disappointment.

Needless to say, no one at the door of IKEA had any idea what desk and whose order was needed, but after much to-and-fro, an exasperated employee disappeared into the warehouse with a pull ticket in hand. Returning with the desk, it was time to jam the inventively packaged and stupidly heavy boxes into the Sportage – having neglected to check measurements, we luckily found that everything fit with minimal smashing and squeezing. The McDonald’s mission complete, desk acquired, and nerves fried, it was time to get the hell out of Atlanta.

Of course, getting back on the same freeway and getting home as fast as possible was not in the cards. The goal was to take a different route on the way back while still maintaining a reasonable schedule, despite 10 years of experience that “maintaining a reasonable schedule” is impossible for us. After snapping photos of the various exurban neighborhoods on the way, we came to the conclusion that going northwest would not completely torpedo our schedule …

Going through Dallas, GA, made us wish that we were already in Dallas, TX. Studying Google maps, we found the Knucklehead Cafe in Rockmart, GA, and figured that might be a decent place to stop for dinner. Noting the nearby Silver Comet Trail, which traverses from Atlanta to Weaver AL, we planned our future bike-packing trip (never mind that this ambitious expedition would require a month of vacation and abandoning all other life obligations).

Already behind schedule by hours, we watched the sun disappear en route to Rockmart. The highly rated Knucklehead Café appeared to be a bar and grill catering to the loud and maskless owners of Harley Davidsons, and when offered a spot in a jammed bar (not appealing for the non-drinkers), we looked around and decided there might be other options in Rockmart. At this point any other option would do, and “any other option” turned out to be the small pizza place across the street, where the friendly, masked waitstaff pointed us to a quieter table between plexiglas partitions to keep us separated from the other patrons daring the pandemic for pizza. A promising menu turned into a weirdly constructed and undercooked pizza and a bowl of wilted iceberg lettuce and carrot shreds masquerading as a salad. Forcing fuel into our bodies, we thanked the staff and climbed back into the Kia. Staring at a lot of miles between us and bed, we hoped to find some coffee not brewed in a Circle K. No such luck – the only coffeeshop in town, recipient of good reviews on Google and claiming to be open, turned out to be nested in a silent downtown and was very much not open. Giving up, we snapped a few pictures of the lonely little city and headed west.

Propping our eyes open, we worked our way through rural Georgia in the dark. Arriving in Birmingham, we stopped for a quick break from the car. Making a circuit through the quiet park in the middle of the city, we found this orphaned pedestal which had obviously been supporting a monument until recently. Wondering what happened to the statue, we turned to Google. It knows all, and we found this story.

Having caught up on current events, we searched for an open coffee bar to keep us awake for the rest of the drive. We ended up at a gas station and pointed the car at Jackson – late evening and another 240 miles to go.

Barely awake, we arrived at the Westin Hotel in Jackson after midnight and managed to deal with the mandatory valet as well as a homeless man requesting a sandwich while navigating our way into the entry. The temperature was dropping rapidly, letting us know that the final leg of the trip might be exciting. Getting checked in, we discovered we were staying at the hotel of a thousand guitars – or at least 7 replicas that you can rent for the night …

Sunday 02 14 2021

Another short night of sleep, and it was time to get home. Before tackling what promised to be icy roads and awful traffic, we had to get a run or walk in. Looking out at Jackson and checking the temperature, we piled on extra layers, gloves, and hats. The promised winter front had arrive. Stepping out the front door, we realized this would be a tough run. Heading uptown, we passed one other brave soul who gave us a hearty yell of support.

Surviving the cold, an attempt to capture one party exercising in front of the capitol building led to a full test of the formerly reliable Mous phone case. Test failed, and cellular DNA was scattered on the streets of Jackson. Dented but still functional, we were able to capture a few more snaps of the frozen downtown area.

Knowing a long drive was ahead of us, we grabbed a coffee traveler at the local corporate coffee chain outpost (this is a last resort for one of us who has attempted to rescind support for as many mega-corporations as possible). With time being of the essence, Jackson to Vicksburg was fairly uneventful. We didn’t see any ice or snow… yet.

Having missed most of Vicksburg in the dark on the way out, we opted to take the backroads into Vicksburg, promising ourselves we would get back on schedule after this minor detour.

We stopped at the Cedar Hill Cemetery. According to Atlas Obscura, the only camel to have served in the Civil War is buried here. After some searching, we found Old Douglas and paid our respects.

Watching the weather at this point, we were starting to get concerned. Not shown on the map here was the increasing number of yellow and red traffic zones as ice started to collect on the freeways and wrecks started piling up. As we crossed the Mississippi we were starting a 400 mile drive into what looked like a pretty serious winter storm.

Crossing the Mississippi:

The weather started to get interesting as soon as we crossed the border into Louisiana – watching the weather app, we could see bands of freezing rain passing over the freeway ahead of us. By the time we reached the first one, the road had a solid sheet of ice for a mile or so. Sliding along gently with the rest of traffic, this was one time we were exceedingly thankful that the entire center of this state is flat as a pancake. Each time we hit another patch of ice, we weren’t sure if this would be the one that went on until we’d slide off the road – by sheer luck we ended up clearing the bridges in Shreveport and into Texas without undue pain. As we neared Tyler and hit the rolling hills of east Texas, we saw a multi-mile backup on the maps. Deciding to avoid parking on the freeway, a few miles out of Kilgore, we opted for a detour to dodge the reported road closure on I-20. Ice pack made the inadvertent tour of Lindale a bit more challenging than normal.

We emerged on the other side of the Tyler ice jam to find some blue skies and clear roads – that wouldn’t last, but we stepped on the gas to make what time we could.

We drove into the edge of the storm again as we entered Dallas. The city was brightly lit as we went through and the roads were still unfrozen. Little did we know how much this would change in the next week as the temperatures plunged to 0F and the state’s power grid completely failed and left thousands without electricity and water.

Having made it home, it was time to unpack and shake off the claustrophobia of another trophy run of questionable sanity. We managed to tick off several obscure sites, see some historic southern cities, and even got a little sleep. An entire separate article could (and maybe will) be written about the week in the deep freeze that followed. A frozen water heater at one house, barely trickling water, filling up Gott jugs to have drinking water, empty store shelves, and the incredibly lucky fact that both houses never lost power and heat, all contributed to a memorable week to say the least. That said, here we present …