One word of advice: don't. It took me three and a half hours to drive about ninety miles. The traffic might look as though it's moving here, but it isn't. First the interstate was jammed with trucks - just jammed - my GPS took me off it, and sent me down streets crammed with Halloween decorations and Trump signs and other drivers doing exactly the same thing; failed to let me rejoin because it was entirely closed because of a crash; tried to take me to another interstate; re-routed me; eventually I rejoined the first one. Bizarrely, there were no sign ever telling one where one was - only directions off to places I knew I didn't want to go to - like Indianapolis and South Bend and Gary. There was a casino advertising upcoming performances by Backman-Turner Overdrive and ZZ Topp, which made me feel that I might be in a backwards facing time machine, rather than merely not traveling forwards.
Eventually, I arrived, in some dark woods - no food available at 9,30 p.m. (but, hey, there were those pretzels on the plane, hours earlier ...).
I will never complain about LA traffic again.
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