Clemson or Bust: the RV Diaries

Two RVs. 21 people. Seven mustaches. Six beds. Four days. 2000 miles. 45 hours of driving. Eight hours of being awake in South Carolina. No showers. No electricity. Countless gas stations. Countless hot dogs. Football. Sports. One funnel. 500 beers, all purchased at 4:30 in the morning. The greatest weekend of our lives. 

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Southward Bound: Jesus Take the Wheel

Friday - Saturday

Emotions were running high when RV 1, a.k.a. Ole Girl, left Boston College Friday Oct. 11 at 9 a.m. RV 2, a.k.a. The Chalet, left a wee bit behind schedule.

9:00 a.m. - 10:00 a.m.

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Photo courtesy of Ashley Hasebroock

CLEMSON BABY, CLEMSON.

Commence roadtrip tune-age. Let the hours of “Blurred Lines” and “Wrecking Ball” begin.

Did anyone bring anything to eat besides Pop Tarts?

No.

Shut up and eat your dang Pop Tarts son.

We instantly realized there was no way 12 people could sleep comfortably.

The contest to not be the first one to fall asleep begins.

10:00 a.m. - 1: 00 p.m.

CONNECTICUT STATE LINE

Fall is in the air, the boys are loving the ride.

The sink quickly fills up with empty Wendy’s bags.

Oh, you have to poop?

NOT IN THE RV YOU DON’T.

Designated Dad instates a strict no pooping rule.

 

T'was a long drive.

T'was a long drive.

1:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.

We take a mandatory Parent Pit-Stop in Scranton: thanks for the donuts, Dad.

Rascal Flatts'  “Life is a Highway” is the designated theme song of the weekend.

“We’re halfway through Pennsylvania, this will take no time!”

FALSE.

Harrisburg is where dreams and happiness die in a fiery pit of misery. A.k.a. traffic.

Darkness falls, and as the sun sinks below the horizon, excitement levels also plummet.

When the sun goes down, the trip isn’t over. Movies lie.

Did we mention it was raining?

Six and a half hours later we cross the Mason-Dixon line.

8:00 p.m. - 12:00 a.m.

Where the hell are we?

Why is Virginia so big?

We should have brought beer with us. Poor decision making right there.

Remember kids, Google Maps lies.

Everyone magically picks up a Southern accent.

Every exit is the site of a Civil War battle.

Neon crosses proclaiming “JESUS SAVES” line the roads.

We’re in God’s country now: Arby’s abounds.

12:00 a.m. - 6:00 a.m.

I have never pumped so much gas in my life.

Peak speeds reached on South Carolinian highways: 90 mph. (Nuts and bolts got loose around 70 mph.)

Tires started melting, the pungent aroma of melting rubber wafted through the cabin.

"Every time I looked up, it was like he was the devil driving a chariot to hell." -One worried RV passenger.

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A choir of angels announces our arrival: I-Hop rises majestically out of the horizon, pancakes are plentiful, our coffee cups runneth over.

 

Our glorious arrival at the Clemson Beach.

Our glorious arrival at the Clemson Beach.

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Saturday:

Photo courtesy of Brad Bates/Twitter.

Photo courtesy of Brad Bates/Twitter

Killin' the game in the front row.

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Northward Bound: The Descent into Delirium

Sunday - Monday

9:00 a.m. - 10:00 a.m.

I can't believe we have to leave already.

Billy was asleep.

Campsite crudely stuffed into RV.

Pants, socks, all were lost in the post-tailgate mess.

Breakfast? Skipped.

Toilet has begun to smell. Horrible. Generally when the RV was angled downhill.

Another billboard for the adult store "Bedtyme Stories."

Billy was still asleep.

 10:00 a.m. - 1: 00 p.m.

"Staches for Daz.

'Staches for Daz.

Smell becomes unbearable. Nearest campsite with dumping capacity located.

Billy was still asleep.

The debate rages over whether Arby's is the "Absolute Best Fast Food" or "Absolute Worst Fast Food." Debate was inconclusive.

(But actually the curly fries are really good.)

Billy ate lunch and promptly went back to sleep.

TRUST IN JESUS.

1:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.

Virginia hypothesis: The highways are actually treadmills. Progress is slow.

Actually, are we going backwards?

"Harris" is back to taunt us again. This time he sent his son. (Traffic in Harrisonburg, VA rivals that of Harrisburg, PA from the drive South.)

Another billboard for the adult store "Bedtyme Stories."

Billy was still asleep.

Someone checked Billy's pulse. It was indeed there.

8:00 p.m. - 12:00 a.m.

More neon crosses. More fireworks superstores. Still no "Bedtyme Stories."

We drive through Intercourse, Pennsylvania. A hat is purchased.

Homework is thrown out the window when it is discovered that underlining is nearly impossible in an RV.

Trucker tries to get us to pull over. No one is amused.

MASH was introduced to the foreign exchange student from Australia. He lived in a kangaroo's pocket.

KFC.

12:00 a.m. - 8:00 a.m.

Life no longer has meaning. The road rushes under us, taking with it our last vestiges of sanity.

The sun rises through the misty morn, illuminating the peaks of Gasson as the RVs come to their final resting place. Until we have to drive them back to Tyngsboro tomorrow anyway.

 Photos by Alex Krowiak/Gavel Media
 
Written by Connor Eckholdt, Gavel Media Staff and Emily Akin, Online Manager

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