It's Easter. (Happy Easter.) I drove 1235 miles yesterday. Crazy? I set out, as you can see from the last post, thinking it was possible. I was starting at 6 a.m., before dawn, so I'd have a whole long day of sunlight. I'd be way into Iowa before it would get dark again. It would be easy to drive as far as Des Moines. But why stop at a motel in Des Moines, when home is so close? But if you don't stop in Des Moines, you aren't going to see any other good place to stop. And it so annoying to stop, unload, check in, sleep in an unfamiliar place, pack up, pay, load the car back up, when if you just put in a few more hours, you can be sleeping in your own bed.
I kept thinking about the time I drove 1100 miles. If I can do 1100, why not 1200? Of course, the 1100 was a mistake. I'd driven all the way from Madison to Salt Lake City and then made the snap decision to just go as far as the next town, which was remarkably ignorant. Still, I did it, and this time, the end of the drive would be familiar territory -- the push through Dubuque, across the bridge to the southwest corner of Wisconsin, and then the final stretch, which looks horribly desolate at night but is nowhere near as desolate as the Great Salt Lake Desert.
UPDATE: Something in the comments makes me realize that 1100 was not the distance I drove when I went from Madison to Wendover, Nevada. Checking Google Maps, I see it was 1,476 miles! I wish I'd realized that when I was driving 1235 miles on Saturday. I think it would have eased my mind. What a nut I was to drive almost 1500 miles that time! Yes, I think it was about 1100 to Salt Lake, and then I thought I should go a little further, without realizing I was at the edge of a 300 mile desert.