Rest Stop

A few decades back, I was driving from Austin to Houston. I was going home to visit my family for a weekend visit. It was a Saturday afternoon in the middle of July, dry and hot, 102 degrees. As an extra bonus, the air conditioning in my car was nonfunctional. I had the windows down, which helped, but it was still hot. As I drove, fine dust would stick to the sweat on my skin.

I saw a sign: "Rest Stop". Then I noticed how thirsty I was, and decided to see if there was a water fountain. I pulled off the road and onto the entryway. It was like a tunnel - big old oak trees stretching overhead, creating some welcome shade. The driveway couldn't have been more than 100 yards long, and as I drove, the temperature dropped noticeably. By the time I reached the rest stop, it had to be 20 degrees cooler than it was on the road.

I parked the car, cut off the engine, and got out. I was immediately struck by the silence. The busy highway was 100 yards away, but I couldn't hear a thing. There was no wind, and no wildlife sounds either. The only thing I could hear was the tick-tick-tick of my engine block cooling off.

There was indeed a water fountain, next to a picnic table. Both were made of cement and native limestone and had the look of something built by the WPA in the 1930s, something that was not uncommon in the area.

The air was so cool it was almost chilly and felt wonderful after the long hot air-conditionless drive. I wandered over to the water fountain and pulled the handle. A stream of water erupted from the spigot. I let it run for a second and then took a sip.

The water was so cold it was almost painful to drink. I'd swear that it was colder than freezing. I almost spit it out in shock, but swallowed anyway.

It was possibly the most delicious drink of water I've ever had in my life. I kept the lever down and guzzled it. When I'd drunk my fill, I cupped one hand and captured some of the water and splashed it on my face, washing off some of the road dust.

I let the water stop and looked around, just soaking up the atmosphere. I could feel all the tensions draining out of my body. I wanted to sit down and relax, but I was already a little late. I'd called my dad before I left, and he was expecting me to arrive soon.

I figured I could stop again on another trip, so I got back into the car and continued the journey. As I drove back out to the highway, the temperature went from almost chilly to sweltering as I left the tree cover, and I pulled onto the highway and accelerated away.

I got to my dad's place about 90 minutes later and walked into the door.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? We've been worried sick! Why didn't you let us know where you were?"

"What do you mean? I left after I called you this morning and drove right here. That was about 3 hours ago."

"No, you called us yesterday morning. Today is Sunday. Where did you spend the night?"

It took a little bit of convincing. They showed me a Sunday paper. The shows on TV were the Sunday shows. The guide on the cable box said it was Sunday, as did Dad's watch. I had no watch or clock myself, and this was the late 80s, before cellphones.

Somewhere in there I'd lost a day. The only place I stopped was the rest stop, but only for a couple of minutes, and I never even sat down. It was possible that I passed out or something and never realized it, but if I did, I didn't fall over because I didn't have any bruises or scuff marks on my clothes.

We went back and forth for a few hours, and I allowed myself to be convinced that I had fallen asleep at that rest stop without noticing it, because nothing else made sense.

I had to be at work Monday morning, so I stayed for awhile and had dinner, then left to drive back. I made a point of looking for that rest stop, but didn't see it. Since I was coming from the other direction, I figured I'd missed it.

I never did find it. I've made that trip dozens of times in the decades since. I've never seen the rest stop again. I even made one trip specifically to look for it, and drove the route at 30 miles an hour to make sure I wouldn't miss it. If you were stuck behind me on that trip, I apologize.

But even now, I can still feel the utter calm of the place, and taste that shockingly cold water as it flows down my throat, and I don't think I'll ever stop looking for it.