Heading Down South to the Land of the Pines

Delaware, Davidson, and UGA

It didn't hit me until I passed through the bottom of Delaware that I was actually going south. Soon after leaving the Johnsons in Lewes, DE, I hit Maryland; then twenty minutes later, I was entering Virginia. The trees thickened as I followed Route 13, the Delmarva Peninsula narrowing as the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel drew nearer. Very little seemed modern along Route 13. The stores and houses had just enough wear and tear to be noticeable, but even though a gas station looks a little beat up, there's always gas in the tank. 

Cold air and blue skies as I drove across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel

I was especially looking forward to traversing the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel during my long day of driving this past Wednesday. Not only did it seem like a scenic focal point, but my mother also wrote about this incredible feat of engineering in one of her novels. The linked bridges, causeways, tunnels, and a man-made island connect the tip of the Delmarva Peninsula to the Virginia mainland. It was perhaps the most surreal twenty miles of my journey--one that has taken me thousands of miles down the eastern seaboard. And so far, every mile feels worth it. 

Lewes, DE with the Johnsons

The last time I posted, I had just arrived at the home of Drew, Karen, Sam, and Luke Johnson. My family had visited them in Lewes before, but not in their new house. It's a beautiful spot--minutes from the center of town, the ocean, and the coastal preserves north of the town. Living near water can have a profound impact on everyday life, and the Johnsons definitely take advantage of their location. Just as I took my dog Pepper for runs everyday while I was home, Drew and the boys take their dog Cal to the beach after school without fail. Cal will chase his baseball up and down the beach, whether it's a warm summer day or the dead of winter. I endured a beach walk with Drew and Luke while Cal ran. The wind gusts did nothing to help the low-teens temperature, but it didn't stop Cal. The ocean is beautiful any time of year, but it was nice knowing that the Florida beaches will be much, much warmer. The Johnsons are used to it, though. Drew and the boys, especially Luke, are serious surfers. Year round, they'll catch waves off of the jetty. I can't imagine the water is ever warm, but that's the sacrifice if you want to surf on the Atlantic.

The Dogfish Head Brewery truck

I also had the privilege of dining with the Johnsons at Confucius, undoubtedly the best Chinese restaurant I've ever been to. The Johnsons knew the owner, and he cooked for us an absolutely over the top meal. I was told my orange chicken would be the best orange chicken I ever tasted, and it did not disappoint. We were presented with appetizers of the chef's choosing, and his shrimp tempura was some of the best shrimp I've ever tasted. Safe to say, I ate well and slept well in Delaware. It was a perfect stop. I was able to see family friends, talk with Sam and Luke about the upcoming summer at Dudley (Sam will be a Junior, and Luke is arriving as a Cub). I battled it out on the ping pong table with Luke, and had a fantastic time. 

On to Davidson, NC

Rested and ready for the biggest leg of my trip, I left Lewes last Wednesday for Davidson, NC. As I alluded to in the introduction, it was on this drive that I felt I was truly heading south. The speed limits were just a little higher, the gas prices just a little lower, and the temperature warming from single digits to above freezing. I had some pretty fantastic meals spanning from New Jersey to Florida, but my lunch that day of cold carrot ginger soup and wheat thins may have been the best.

Arriving at Davidson College late that evening, I felt worlds away from home, but as I soon discovered, I was really only easing myself into life in the South. Seeing my former AL and incredible Dudley friend James Frankel made the nine hours on the road worth it. We ran off to grab dinner at a not-your-typical fried chicken joint (very southern, I suppose), but as we drove through campus, it reminded me of any number of NESCAC colleges. And though I met a fair number of students from North Carolina, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see any of them at a school like Middlebury.

James showed me a fantastic time—from meals at Ferruci’s and Toast to our racquetball match to an economics class. Since I hadn’t been a student in a classroom since May of 2012, I was able to pay plenty of attention, despite the professor’s inanimate style. A highlight of the visit was our Thursday evening at the bowling alley. James’s entire fraternity hit the lanes for a few hours of friendly competition, over-the-top celebrations, and a few strikes here and there.

Davidson is a unique school—offering a high level liberal arts education, Division I sports, and a touch of southern hospitality. As a senior and president of Kappa Sigma Delta, James displayed a whole lot of pride in his school—very similar to the pride he’s had for Dudley for as long as I’ve known him. When there’s nothing else to talk about, we talk about Dudley. And that’s perhaps the best thing to talk about when you have two people who care so much for the place. 

As I left, I found myself thinking about returning again some day. I’ve been meeting a lot of new people during the trip, but none have quite lived up to the new friends I found at Davidson. James is a senior, but I would have no problem making a trip next year just to see his friends. 

A Birthday Weekend at UGA

If my time at Davidson was my easy transition into the South, then my weekend at the University of Georgia was when the South hit me square in the face. Willie Treiber, one my greatest friends, was brave enough to be a Georgia Bulldog, and though school with 35,000 in the student body was never on my radar, I’m glad I have a friend who took the risk. UPenn seemed big to me; UGA was hunormous. Willie resides on the first floor of a dorm with at least fifteen levels; and his was only one of a handful of other freshmen residences—all housing upwards of a thousand. He graciously let me break in his new UGA emblazoned futon, and I certainly slept well all three nights.  

Sanford Stadium, at the heart of the UGA campus

If Williamstown is a “college town,” then Athens is a “college city.” The campus is at the heart of the city, with the north end leading straight into downtown. And at the center of it all is Sanford Stadium—90,000 strong. I can only imagine the city exploding with people on a gameday, especially since the ‘Dogs have secured a place in the SEC elite. A few top recruits were in town for the weekend, and everyone knew about it.

I had such a fun time with Willie and his friends that I barely even thought about my eighteenth birthday. I was too busy snickering at southern accents, eating not-so-healthy food, and splitting my time between the dorms, the fraternity house, and downtown. Willie and I took on the home course of UGA alumns like Bubba Watson and failed pretty miserably—but I’ll take any golf I can get in the month of January. It was a little strange to turn eighteen, arguably the most important age distinction of my life so far, without many people knowing. But I would gladly sacrifice any birthday party for a trip like this one.

Post-script: A Few Thoughts on the South

The moon rose just as we finished on UGA's 18th

I know Texas is the only state that truly deserves to be its own country, but coming from the eyes of a New Englander, the South is as different as it gets. I’m glad I was able to take it (fairly) slow during my trip down from Massachusetts, because I had experiences I won’t find anywhere else. On my birthday, I spoke with parents and grandparents, and I told everyone that I was having a phenomenal time, but I also couldn’t have been happier that I chose Middlebury. I know for a fact that I will be happiest at a small school. And in traveling around my own country, I've realized how proud I am to have grown up in New England and on the shores of Lake Champlain. And even though I've only been gone from Williamstown for a little more than a week, I miss it more than I did when I was oceans away in Germany. I'm going to continue to enjoy my time in the South, see everyone I want to see, play a lot of golf, and learn more about my country and its people. It'll be a very short month of February, and before I know it, I'll be heading north to go back home.