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What’s the Worst Stop You’ve Ever Made on a Road Trip?
As we saw in our last question and your fantastic answers to it, there are some delightful places to make a pit stop while on a road trip. But what about the flip side of this particular coin? We wonder if you have stories about the worst places you’ve visited while on a road trip.
But before we proceed, we must thank Hagerty Media reader DUB6 for this question, as he initially posed this in the comments section. He, like us, does not wish to disparage any business or institution that motorists find in their travels. Everyone can have a bad day, and I speak from experience as someone who spent a large chunk of my life in customer service for retailers.
But the question remains, and answers are needed. Maybe even a “crappy” answer.
The Toilet Seat Museum
I’ve never had a bad experience on a road trip. Even when I’ve broken down by the side of the road, people have been mostly pleasant and always willing to help. Perhaps I am lucky, as my only “crappy” experience was at Barney Smith’s Toilet Seat Art Museum.
While in San Antonio for business, I checked Google Maps to find interesting and entertaining places to visit. So before dinner on a weekday evening, I took a diversion to meet Mr. Smith and check out his toilet seats. Truth be told, it was the most delightful collection of crappers I have ever seen. Upon researching this article, I was saddened to learn that Mr. Smith passed away, as he was a very warm and caring person who loved to share his creations with strangers who parked on the street by his red Dodge truck.
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Luckily his museum moved into a new location a few hours away in Dallas, so anyone interested in a dumpy experience can still partake in the excellence. Yes, I acknowledge I am not answering this question correctly, but we still need your feedback, whether crappy in a fun way, or actually bad! So please, tell us…
What’s the Worst Stop You’ve Ever Made on a Road Trip?
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My wife and I were relocating from Seattle to Austin via car. We stopped at a national motel chain where they leave the lights on for you. I believe the room next to our was occupied by a person (people) who were engaged in the retail sale of illegal substances. At some point in the middle of the night, the police began banging on their door, or maybe some other door nearby. Cue dogs barking as well. Needless to say, we couldn’t wait to get out of there in the morning.
We were we in Washington DC. Having spent a lot of time around town I was dead tired.
The hotel was next to the FAA building off the Mall. It was a moderate up scale place but some idiot set off the fire alarm in the middle of the night. A few min later I am out in the DC streets half awake at 3 AM.
Not the worst thing but I have had few major painful stops.
There was the time I needed gas leaving the Detroit Auto Show. I stopped at a gas station near the old Tigers Stadium late at night. I got the once over by a number of people and found the gas window was like a bank. Bullet proof and a drawer.
I was used to working in bad neighborhoods when I worked in a Gas station here in Akron Ohio. We had drug dealers, criminals. Crazies and a flow of Hells Angels.
Well it is tougher in a bad neighborhood when you don’t know the people. No one messed with us at home because they knew we would not take it. But out of twon hmmm!
We were on our way to Colorado from Michigan, my son, wife and me, and decided to take the southern route through Kansas. We were pulling our old Airstream with a Ram pick up. We stopped at Eldorado State Park and it was nice, but in the afternoon the camp hosts stopped by and warned us of a possible tornado. Not worry, though. If you hear the siren, just head to the restrooms, which are, and I’m not kidding, Kevlar lined and rebar and brick reinforced concrete. I left the truck attached to the camper, just in case, but no siren came. The next morning we cut out of there and headed to Dodge City. I worked for Chrysler, so I thought a stay in Dodge City was mandatory. Cool as Dodge City is, it just happened to smell really bad, due to the cows, so Dodge City was out. Time was not on our side as we headed west and we were running out of towns with campgrounds, but happened on Garden City. Pulled into what looked like an old KOA, and it didn’t smell too bad, so we decided to make a night of it. I should have known better when I saw the gang of Chihuahua’s outside while we checked in. Mean little buggers. The attendee was very nice though and showed us to a spot in the park. It seems we were the only transient people there, and after meeting a few of our park and set neighbors realized that they all worked next door at the windmill assembly facility or across town at the meat processing plant. Sadly, as we set up, the wind shifted and it became highly unpleasant. I was fairly wiped out from driving and worrying about tornado’s and killer tiny dogs, but our son really wanted to swim in the pool. Fine. Get your suit on and we’ll head over there. I spent a good hour cleaning the pool and filters and sweeping all the leaves away. I honestly enjoy that type of work. As soon as I was done, all the park and sets saw the cleaned out pool and decided that that was the place to be and we were soon mobbed, but our son had a great time, and that’s all that matters.
Decades ago, when I94 was being built and connecting to the IN toll road, there was a short stretch of country road that had a gas station with a restroom so vile that I imagined things crawling out of the plumbing. It was enough to scare this college kid to pee outside in the winter. A local sheriff joined me.
I mean, we’ve probably all stopped at a restroom and wondered about the sanity of the people that used it before us.
Back in the summer of 2020 my sister offered to take my two not-quite teenage kids to stay with her in FL for a couple of weeks. She picked them up and we figured we would get a call from them in a day when she got there.
The next night the boys called and told us excitedly that when they passed through Atlanta, they convinced their aunt to stop at some famous skate park they had heard about. They had been riding scooters for about 30 minutes when they heard a lot of police cars and within another 30 minutes police officers came by asking them to leave the park. A racially charged protest nearby had turned into a riot, so they hit the road. Finding dinner later turned into a two-hour long hunt for an open diner until they finally found a Waffle House that was only able to serve off of its emergency menu (I grew up hearing about that as a joke but it is real. Waffle House is actually pretty impressive in terms of natural disaster planning.)
After eating, they found a well- known, otherwise reputable hotel with vacancies but with only one person on staff complaining that they had been there most of the week. Room #1 had a blood stain of the floor. The desk clerk had missed the note on keeping that room empty. In room #2 the power flicked off when my sister plugged in her phone charger- the whole room went out, lights and all. The desk clerk apologized because the hotel had no maintenance staff. Room #3 had a delightful view around 2 AM of what became my sons’ first viewing of err… a strictly-managed escort service. The desk clerk AND police apologized but could do little because the local police were not making those type of arrests at the time so as not to overcrowd the local jail during COVID.
Mine involves Atlanta, though just a few weeks ago. My wife’s flight to upstate SC (where we live) was going to be missed due to their initial international flight being delayed. So right as the sun was setting and the roads were freezing over again from the “snowstorm”, I hit the road for the 2-3 hour drive to Atlanta airport.
The precipitation started falling about 30 minutes away, at which time I discovered there was nothing left of her windshield wipers. I found an Autozone, but the doors were chained up, despite people inside.
I gave up since I was so close, so I found a burger king to get some food. Doors also chained up, people inside.
When I saw people walking around the back of the building toward me, I booked it to the car and sped off as fast as possible. I picked her and her friends up from the airport and didn’t stop until I was far clear of Atlanta.
In 2014, as the wife and I were returning west from an east coast trip, we stopped for the night at a low budget motel right off the freeway in Columbus, Ohio, just across from entertainment complex called Magic Mountain. The management felt compelled to put a big sticker on the inside of the door, alerting customers that “For Your Protection, When In Room, Engage Deadbolt and Security Latch”. When I went out to get some things from the car after dark, I understood why – let’s just say that the other clientele and some of the “visitors” were just a tad unsavory! I didn’t sleep well at all, and had to look out the rooms window several times to see if our vehicle was still outside – don’t know what I was going to do if it wasn’t, though. I really expected it to at least be up on cinder blocks in the morning, but nothing seemed to be touched. I hadn’t felt safe all night and couldn’t get back on the road quickly enough. The next night, we treated ourselves to a suite in an upscale hotel with a secured parking garage!
Wow. I know where that is. You never stay east of downtown.
Go north to Worthington or Polaris. Or even west to Dublin. Much more up scale and safer.
Eric Clapton lives in Dublin with Jack Nicolas and Bobby Rahal. But never stay downtown or east of Columbus.
Gee, too bad I didn’t talk to you before that trip in summer of ’14, huh? But honestly, after a long day at the wheel, I was just looking for a place to get a room. Maybe they should put up big signs on the freeway outside of town, telling people coming west to just keep going until they get to Dublin!
I’m going the other way here. I’ve stayed and lived among some very very unsavory characters. I may have been one of them at the time but memories get fuzzy . Still, birds of feather flock together as they say so probably. The worst are those quaint overpriced out of the way B&B’s. The last resort in both senses of the word. Just squeaky old furniture with no real creature comforts. You could at least put a TV in that supposedly antique garage sale armoire so I can watch the news. I really don’t want to have breakfast with the other guests first thing in the morning who think I sat on their ‘tell me your story button’. Far from it. Just give me ,clean sheets, an in room coffee maker and the AAA discount when I haggle for it even though I’m not a member.
I don’t know who’s driving the car in the lead picture but one stop they should make is to somebody who can diagnose and possibly repair which DTC(s) turned the “Check Engine Light” on.
Our worst was on an ill fated trip to the Rockies. After enduring the rain that caused the Big Thompson River flood disaster (it’s a thing, look it up) our planned itinerary was to go to Mount Rushmore. While on our planned route we saw a sign stating “shortest route to Mount Rushmore” or words to that effect. Note it did not say “fastest.” It took us through Custer State Park As we followed a State of S. Dakota dump truck around several “pigtail” turns on an, at most, 1 1/2 lane road we realized our mistake. We got to Mount Rushmore later than planned, making us late to our planned, but with no reservations, lodging for the night in Rapid City. We missed getting their last room, which turned out to be the area’s last room, by mere minutes. The next closest motel was in Spearfish. When we got there, well after dark and after driving along narrow canyon roads with lightning flashing overhead ( see Big Thompson reference above) we discovered that the local state college was having a reunion and there were no rooms available in town. We slept, in the car, at a highway rest area.
This story is multifaceted.
First, I have a significant aversion to planting my rear on public toilet seats. Overall, Kohls and Home Depot are the only ones I find clean enough for a major transaction.
Second, in 2005 I suffered a catastrophic ankle and foot injury and a small midwestern amusement park. I nearly lost my foot and was in a cast for over a year, non weight bearing.
In the fall of that year, my aunt passed away. My sister flew into Detroit to drive the two of us in my large SUV to Cincinnati for the funeral.
About halfway into the trip, Lima, Ohio, I had to go. Bad. I succumbed to the idea that this would be in a sub par facility but I couldn’t help it. McDonald’s, closed, Burger King, out of order. Two more restaurants, no dice.
As we pulled into WalMart I knew I was in grave danger. My sister pulled up to the doors, I exited the vehicle and at a pace that was amazing on two crutches in “sprinted” to the restroom. All stalls occupied! I literally was going to bust, so I went to the women’s side, entered a stall and dropped my shorts. As I began to sit…….. explosive fectal matter exited my bowels. Everywhere.
I was sweating, no surface was left uncovered. It was a mess.
My bowels empty, I now had to use my shirt and the sink (back on the men’s side) to clean myself as best I could. I had by this time called my sister and had her buy me all new clothes, wet wipes and sanitizer.
She met me at the car and we drove to a remote corner of the lot where I began to change and clean up in the back of the vehicle.
My sister is in the drivers seat, I am in the very rear, and two police cruisers pull up. They ask her what is going on because they have a prostitution issue in the area. My poor sister, who is already not having a good day, is left to explain to the officers that it is her 35ish year old brother in the back cleaning up after having shat himself in WalMart.
After having checked out ids we were released. She did not speak for another hour, but now will not miss a chance to tell the story publicly at my expense.
Also, that poor minimum wage employee that had to clean the restrooms, to you I offer my profound apologies
Amen! Stayed at a B&B in Macungie Pa while going to a big Buick Club show in Allentown. Room was about the size of a large closet, shower wouldn’t drain if you stayed in longer than a minute, & the lock on the door was pretty much like a closet door only much less functional. Actually had a old style stick in the keyhole lock which you could override by jiggling a little. All this for I think $130 a night. The owners came in on their way to their day jobs for about a 1/2 hour to do breakfast for the guests. Can you say “ripoff”?
1980. I had just finished up a travel marketing event (the ITB) in Berlin and after a few days of rest a good friend and I set off to drive from Berlin to Brussels. Please remember, this was before the Berlin Wall came down, Germany was split into East and West and the East was under extremely harsh communist control. We set off and the first stop was Customs into East Germany. “Passports.” No please here. “Get out of the car and wait there.” They searched everything and mirrored underneath, finding nothing. The chocolate was well hidden.
After a few hours we thought our last stop would be a petrol station with a small and dubious restaurant. I’ve seen dilapidated places before and this was one of them. There was only one item on the “menu” and we ordered it-a hearty bowl of water and a potato flavored with a well used pork bone. The other patrons stared and stared and were lot allowed to ask us questions but they were eying our clothes while they seemed to enjoy their soup. Their clothing was probably never new and mostly gray. We left and never drove through East Germany again.
Traveling in East Germay at the time had to timed just right. The East German police gave us x amount of time to reach the border of the West with no time for any side excursions We could have been spies ya know. They never found the chocolate.
In 1997, my son and I made a road trip from Dallas, Texas, to Florida to visit several schools he was considering attending. We planned to stop overnight after the first day of driving. Unfortunately, we chose to make this trip starting on July 3rd and all the hotels were booked solid for the 4th of July holiday. Without any reasonable alternatives, we decided to stop for the night at a campground in Pascagoula, Mississippi, and sleep in our car.
It was incredibly hot and humid. We drove around trying to find any businesses with air-conditioning where we could stay and cool off for a few hours, but everything was closed. We drove back to the campground and tried to sleep. Once in a while, we would start the car to run the air-conditioning for a few minutes, but it was absolutely miserable with the heat, humidity, and mosquitoes. Finally, we gave up and continued driving through the night. We were exhausted but at least we were comfortably cool.
Although it’s been almost 30 years since then and my son is grown now with a wife and family of his own, we still occasionally talk about that night spent together in Pascagoula, Mississippi.
My worst road trip experience was close to 50 years ago, but remains memorable. While returning to LA from camping along the Kern River, we made a pit stop at a popular chain known for their root beer, somewhere in the San Joaquin Valley before getting on the interstate. The bathroom was the worst I’ve seen on this continent. One of my buddies was desperate for a sit down but couldn’t bring himself to make contact with the seat. When he emerged, we asked how he managed. He said he stood over the commode and “bombs away!”. We all had a good laugh at that.