Marion to Indy
The drive up from Marion is one I could probably do with my eyes closed at this point, except this year it felt like every single mile between here and Indianapolis had a cone in front of it. I lost count of how many lanes narrowed down to one for no visible reason, no crew, no equipment, just orange barrels standing around like they had nowhere better to be. And of course that's when the driving gets interesting, because nothing brings out a person's true relationship with a turn signal like a merge. I watched people brake for exits a mile early and then watched other people refuse to merge until the very last possible foot of pavement, and I thought, not for the first time, that a long highway drive is basically a personality test nobody agreed to take.
I stopped at Boomland, because you stop at Boomland. It's not really a choice at that point, it's closer to a ritual, the kind of thing you do because the doing of it is the point and not because you particularly need anything. Got a soda, got a lottery ticket, didn't win anything, wasn't expecting to. There's something nice about a stop that exists purely for its own sake in the middle of a drive that's otherwise just about getting somewhere else.
Even downtown wasn't done with me. There's a ton of construction going on around and in the convention center itself, fencing and scaffolding in places I remember walking through freely last year, and I found myself rerouting on foot the same way I'd been rerouting on the highway a few hours earlier. It's a strange little echo, the whole day being one long negotiation with orange barrels in one form or another.
Everything got better the second I actually arrived. Jon, Lanie, and Julie were already there, and we ended up at Yard House for dinner, which is becoming its own small tradition at this point. Tacos, a couple of beers along with Jon, and the kind of conversation that only happens once you've stopped moving for the day. I had Trash Panda and Silly Stupid, and I think by the end of the night Trash Panda had edged it out, though I reserve the right to change my mind after another round at some point this week.
Now I'm back at the hotel, showered and letting the day settle before the gathering of games in the morning. There's a particular kind of quiet after a day like this, the drive and the traffic and the small stop and the better dinner all folding into something you can finally just sit with. Tomorrow the real thing starts. Tonight I'm just glad to be here.
