A Long Road Trip With Etta – My 2008 Porsche 911

Early December and not a lot of unicorns on the CarMax lots, so why not write a long piece about a long road trip in one of my mine. My time with the 2008 Porsche 911 (Etta – covered here) will soon come to an end. I plan to sell her with at least 10,000 miles left on the MaxCare warranty, and I’m down to about 15,000 miles left today. I’ll be keeping long distance travel to a minimum, but wanted to share one of the most rewarding drives I’ve taken this year, a leisurely and long distance 1,200 miler over four days in May 2020 when I needed to get away from the pandemic and cabin fever. For the record, I encountered fewer people for the whole journey than a single trip to the grocery store. The road trip only made me love this sports car more. I plan to buy another one. Let’s get started.

Day 1 – The goal was to stay off the interstates and enjoy the 911 on rural roads and byways. Sometimes I take my cues from a book I read in the early 80’s by William Least Heat Moon, a dude who dealt with divorce by quitting his job and driving around the country in a 1975 Ford Econoline. The book was called Blue Highways, the color of byways on a road map. Mr. Moon said, “When you’re travelling, you are what you are right there and then. People don’t have your past to hold against you. No yesterdays on the road.” I decided that pretty much all of my stops would be places you’d only see on the way to something else truly spectacular, but there’s wasn’t any such spectacular destination. Except for one or two. From Leesburg, Virginia I headed west on Route 7 and US 50 first to Romney, WV. Did the quick stop at the Indian Mound cemetery, but my real quest was automotive and unfulfilling. Back in the mid-80’s I owned a pair of German Ford Fiestas, and in the early 90’s while driving through Romney I saw more Ford Fiestas as daily drivers than anywhere outside of Europe. Alas, by 2020 they have been replaced by PT Cruisers. Swarms of PT Cruisers in Romney now. Never knew why there were Fiestas back in the day or PT’s now.

Continued on to the Fairfax Stone, the source of the Potomac River and a historical novelty I always wanted to see. Nice back roads connecting US 50 and US 48 and before I knew it 150 miles of the journey were behind me.

Zoomed up US 219 from the Fairfax Stone about a hundred miles to another place that’s been pretty special to me. The Flight 93 Memorial off US 30 near Shanksville, Pennsylvania. The tragedy that was 9/11 played a pivotal part in my government career, and only months after the attack and before there was any memorial at all I brought my pre-teen sons here for a visit. It was sobering then and remains so now. It’s near nothing, but for me close to everything.

Back on US 219 I motored the 911 north another 100 miles to what would be my “base camp” for the next three days, the Fairfield Inn and Suites in DuBois, Pennsylvania. On an April road trip I stayed in a couple of hotels and during the-then height of Covid I found myself scrubbing rooms too often. This time I figured I’d limit exposure by cleaning one hotel room once, and do day trips from there. And after six hours and 318 miles cleaning a hotel room was the last thing I wanted to do. And the Fairfield Inn gets you a discount at the Station 101 Pub and Kitchen next door. Highly recommend it. Takeout every night.

Didn’t see much of DuBois, but I do recall asking a good friend who knows Pennsylvania well if it was pronounced “Du-Bwah”, and he told me if I called it that I would likely get my ass beat. “Doo-boyz” it is.

Day 2 – I had read about Pennsylvania’s elk country in the Washington Post years ago and always wanted to see it. And now I have. The official loop is 127 miles but the legs to and from DuBois added another 40. In short, the elk country was one of the most spectacular drives I’ve ever done – and I’ve done a (sorta) Cannonball Run in a minivan with three buds, a drive to the Arctic Circle in a Fiat 500, and got lost in the Judean desert in an armored Grand Cherokee. Flinging the 911 through turn after turn with short straightaways, almost no traffic, and zero police, was a hoot.

Yeah, I saw wild elk – fortunately none crossing the road, and I slowed down through the little towns and at dusk. What was also fascinating was following an old Toyota Camry southwest towards Snow Shoe at dusk, and struggling to keep up! A local who really knew the roads, I was intrigued when they rounded a bend slower than normal and right up ahead was a herd of deer in the road. Had I been solo it could have been ugly.

As the sun went down I enjoyed a triple digit run on Interstate 80 from Snow Shoe back to DuBois with a small convoy of cars going quite quickly. Let’s keep that between us?

Day 3 – A little wired and a little tired after 300 and 168 mile days pushing very hard, I headed north on US 219 at a more leisurely pace assisted by much, much rain. The goal was Niagara Falls, hoping to take in a short run along the water and work off some of the fast food I’d been gorging on. But first, while still in Pennsylvania I made a stop at the Kinzua Bridge State Park just 60 miles north. A different kind of gorge.

The web site will tell you “the Viaduct, once the longest and tallest railroad structure at 2,053 feet long and 301 feet high, was partially destroyed by a tornado during 2003 and it was reinvented as a pedestrian walkway during 2011, visitors can stroll 600 feet out on the remaining support towers, peer miles out into the Kinzua Gorge, and gaze down through the partial glass platform at the end of the walkway.” I’ll tell you I nearly wet myself looking down through the glass convinced it was not made for my 225 lb bulk and I was about to die.

No need to explain Niagara Falls to anyone. Can’t believe it took me so many years to get there. And I’ve been a newlywed – twice! In the pouring rain the four mile run around the falls was wet. The drive was wet. The falls were wet. And with a pandemic underway there was almost no one out. All in all the almost 350 mile up and back was relaxing and uneventful. What was noteworthy? Only in Buffalo did I see another Porsche 911 in over 800 miles of driving…so far. Made me feel a little special and a little pretentious actually. Blue collar, rural USA is where all of my family comes from. Went out of my way to be a good guest, slow down through towns, and tip well – but not insultingly so. These are good people.

Back in DuBois I motored into town proper and I saw my first long, long line of cars awaiting their turn collecting from the local food bank. The pandemic had yet to hit rural Pennsylvania with sickness, but it was hitting the already strained economy hard.

Day 4 – Centralia, Pennsylvania. A modern day ghost town that’s been on my bucket list for years. A coal mine fire burning underground for almost 60 years has driven the population down from 1,000 to……five. Residents were relocated over time and the remaining families got (I think) a $300,000 settlement and can stay – until they leave or die – but nobody else can move in. I went for a run around the entire town (that would be a surprisingly hilly three miler – not bragging – it wore me out) and saw the handful of remaining houses, and one resident who came out to glare at me for taking pictures of his odd yard below.

The town has been vandalized and celebrated and documented and yet is sad and lonely. And quiet. I stuck around for about an hour until the awe was replaced with boredom and hunger. Among the many things that aren’t in Centralia, KFC is one of them. But months later, posting these pictures reminds me of the eerie solitude that is Centralia.

Centralia was the halfway point from DuBois to home. Like many road trips, the last leg becomes equal amounts work and relief to be heading home. It was not a pleasant drive through Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, maneuvering safely around trucks on I-81 back onto US towards home, all in a raging rainstorm. Far worse than the Niagara leg, and yet the 911 holds straight and true and the wipers clear the windshield easily. Visibility was so bad I used the single rear red fog light (Car and Driver covered the UN-regulated lights here!) – I use the light sparingly since the last time a driver flagged me down to tell me one of my tail lights was way brighter than the other. On this day it was necessary.

Twelve-hundred miles over four days. Mostly rural routes, some interstate, lots of twisties. I averaged 20 mpg in the Porsche 911 for the whole trip, which is about what I get all the time (and about what I get in the Mercedes S600). No complaints. The 911 is certainly not the comfortable boat the S600 is, and it’s a bit loud on the highways, but on the backroads turn the radio off and listen to the beautiful sound of the boxer flat-6. And the handling – there’s nothing like it. Point and go. Brake hard. Accelerate hard. Repeat. This is my first Porsche 911 and my longest road trip in it, and it was everything I wanted it to be. My time is almost over with this car, but there will be another 911 in my garage and more road trips. If you hung in there and read this ridiculously long piece, this Pilsner’s for you!