While the city’s economy rises and falls on the success of the automotive
industry, this is no longer 2008. Could this be a phoenix-like resurrection?
the flexibility of turbocharged inline-fours.”
That as well may be, but this is a road trip, after all and
frankly, vehicles tend to take on a secondary role—unless
they break down. Road trips are about the camaraderie, the
adventure—and the food.
To paraphrase a famous 1980 road trip movie, “It’s 415
kilometres to Detroit, we got a full tank of gas, we got a 2.2kg
tub of Twizzlers, 2.2kg of Kirkland-brand Trail Mix and a 1/2
case of Gatorade and water… Hit it!”
And so the trip down the 401 to the Motor City was on.
The Sunday was, for the most part, uneventful. After
ingesting too many sweet and salty snacks and to relieve
the monotony of an “I-Spy” game—it was decided that some
proper sustenance was required. Meat, scorched beef in the
form of a fresh burger patty on a doughy bun with an order
of fries and a soda from Big Smoke Burger at an On Route
service centre outside of Kitchener. OK, so we had not driven
that far, but it was early Sunday afternoon and our appetites
had been percolating for some time.
Having driven this corridor more times than I care to
remember (the woman formerly known as Mrs. Taylor is from
Windsor) it’s possible the drive could well be done in my
sleep—especially on Ontario’s version of the Prairies from
London to just outside of Windsor—flat and boring terrain with
nary a turn. The only thing breaking up the monotony was
counting the wind turbines and discussing why some were
rotating while others just sat there. That and the soothing hum
from our Sonata’s winter boots, Hankook W310 I*Cept EVOs
on the dry, frigid blacktop. And that is how we missed the exit
for the tunnel. Technically, we might have made it. However,
we had no desire to be the unknown subject of a traffic report
later due to the highway being closed for hours! And so we
headed for the bridge through what has been a work-inprogress for Lord knows how many years, Windsor.
The scene in Windsor from our car was of construction—
roads, curbs, sidewalks and small retail plazas. Nothing
affluent, but at least some infrastructure activity. Juxtapose
this scenario to the one which greeted us on the US side,
destruction—especially steps from Detroit’s downtown core…
Detroit was once a great city. Now it is a shell of its former
self. How bad is it? It can even no longer lay claim to being the
murder capital of the United States.
Eschewing hotel luxury, negotiations had occurred weeks
earlier to rent a small condo in the historic Corktown area,
some three kilometres from Cobo Hall where the auto show
was being held. Parking was right in front of the remodeledon-the-inside low rise building. In truth, there was an
expectation to find our Sonata up on bricks every time we
ventured out! That would not be the case.
Does this once great city deserve its tarnished reputation?
We’re not here to pass judgment. But in talking with locals
in bars, restaurants and a local bodega, home to colourful
neighbourhood characters, it would appear that a corner may
slowly being turned. At no time did we ever feel threatened
or intimidated. We drove and walked late at night to pick up
refreshments and one time, a pizza. Just as the NAIAS is itself
showing optimism, so too are parts of this city. There is no
feeling of regret or remorse. While the city’s economy rises
and falls on the success of the automotive industry, this is no
longer 2008. Could this be a phoenix-like resurrection?
Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. One of the best ethnic
meals was enjoyed a brisk walk from our apartment. The
authentic fare and selection of cold beer at Los Galanes was
terrific—and inexpensive.
On our final morning, we drove to a bakery, La Gloria where
my co-driver and I managed to spend close to US$30 on
pastries and sundry Mexican treats! To be clear, that represents
two boxes and one bag of confectionary delights!
Fuelled with hot, strong coffee and pastries, we drove down
Michigan Avenue, along four-lanes of cobbled roads littered
with potholes of all sizes for a photographic safari of some of
the city’s painful desolation.
On one photo stop, we had to move along quickly as a
patrolling squad car circled our location a couple of times
and drove toward us. Perhaps the thought was we were
there to inflict further damage to some of these shells of
buildings, many festooned with so many colours it resembled
a very depressing Pride Day. But no, they wanted to ensure
we did not trespass and we were safe. Why? There were
distinct gang tags on the outside of some structures and the
last thing we needed to do was inadvertently create some
turf rivalry. Heeding the friendly advice, we did, indeed,
move along.
Time to head home in the warm confines of our Sonata.
Stopping to fill up an almost empty tank, we had to prepay—even
though our pump was directly in front of the Plexiglas cage the
attendant apparently lived. US$40 later, we were on our way, this
time through the tunnel and back into familiar territory.
A few hours later, we were back. All in all, the Sonata
averaged 7.2L/100km while eating up over 1,100 kilometres of
highways and city streets. Very respectable considering we
were averaging 124kph when on highways. The AWD Santa
Fe delivered 9.0L/100km—including, I am led to believe,
some ‘spirited’ driving on Highway 115! Same engine, different
aerodynamics, more weight and all-wheel drive—yet still
excellent results.
All in all a fun road trip with good vehicles and good
company. No burgers on the return trip. There were, however a
couple of “institutional” coffees and a Mexican delicacy or two.
And we still had Twizzlers and Trail Mix. TDM
thedriver.ca
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