In the 1920s, a national system of numbered highways was planned out. These were the original interstate highways, running across the country before Eisenhower began the modern "interstates" in the 1950s. As part of the first system, US 41 is one of the major north-south routes between Fort Myers and Port Charlotte, Florida. Beyond that, it goes to Miami and Tampa, and no one in their right mind would drive it further (if they weren't just using I-75 already).

I remember last year talking to family who thought that it ended in Tampa, telling them that it in fact went all the way to Michigan. I thought of this when I was planning my latest drive up to New York, bored with interstate 95 and considering alternate routes, even considering the possibility of avoiding the interstates entirely. There is another highway in US 41's system, US 17, which begins a little north of Fort Myers, runs up the Atlantic coast, and ends in northern Virginia. I decided that I could drive US 17, all of it, beginning to end, without going too far out of my way. It was different. It was insane. No one I knew would even consider doing it.

Perfect.

	The road trip began at about 1:00pm, October 19, 2009, at the intersection of Colonial Blvd. and US 41. For the ~1,500 miles between Fort Myers, FL and Newark, NJ, I would stay within the old federal highway system. This wouldn't exclude the interstates entirely, as you'll see, and there are no such highways on Long Island, so I couldn't stick to 'em all the way to Massapequa.
	US 41 goes through Fort Myers. This is the first of six highways: 41 will take me to the beginning of 17 in Punta Gorda, then 17 up to Winchester, Virginia, then 11, 30, 130, and 1 to Newark, New Jersey.
	My drive on Route 17 begins in Punta Gorda, Florida. I just turned onto it from 41.
	The first stretch of 17 runs through the inland of the Florida peninsula. Until Orlando, this means rural ranches and the occasional small town.
	A nice day for a drive in the country.
	The first of many concurrencies. Between Fort Meade and Bartow, Routes 17 and 98 are the same road. That's bonus points, right?
	"Must... follow... sign..." Me trying to follow the ever-changing path of US 17 south of Orlando. At some points, riding a bull would've been easier.
	Here's 17's (first) intersection with I-4, the road I'd normally be using. So, I'm in Orlando. That's as far as US 17 goes, right?
	Um... No.
	North of Sanford, US 17 hugs Lake Monroe for a while. No guardrails or anything, what's up with that? Though I'd hoped 17 would run along the Atlantic coast up in the Carolinas, this turned out to be the biggest body of water I'd get a view of.
	The next day, I drove 17 into Jacksonville. Here, the highway merges with I-10, which ends at I-95. So much for avoiding the interstates. This is the first of three concurrencies with I-95.
	Boy, was I glad to see this "17" shield (right side of the photo). Unfortunately, there's no sign on I-95 that says where 17 splits-off, and the maps weren't helpful, either. There were three roads with offramps, and I basically decided to drive down each one of them. I was rewarded on my first attempt.
	Remembering where I left the highway, I park in downtown Jacksonville and take a look around. Note the trendy names Jacksonville gives their streets. The space avoids copyright infringement.
	"eBay Street," as I prefer to call it, has reversible lanes. Very modern look if you ask me.
	I saw a flame nearby and snapped a picture of the monument. The plaque reads: "This flame of freedom is dedicated to all veterans who so valiantly served in the armed forces of this great nation to preserve freedom." It was donated by the American Legion Posts of Duval County on July 4, 1969.
	Jacksonville had a very urban feel to it. Any city with street vendors is OK in my book. Still didn't see the subway enterances, though.

	Back on Route 17, just a short distance to the first state line. Georgia did not have a welcome sign. Guess they could only afford the ones on I-95.
	I did begin to see mileposts, though, and they would become very common. In Georgia, they reset for each county. In the Carolinas, their appearances were spotty but they were for the entire state. Virginia's quit after the first few miles, so I dunno. Also note the "TO 95" sign. These were common whenever 17 ran parallel to the interstate. They said, "C'mon, Ryan, get on the interstate, everyone's doin' it!"
	The bridge over the Brunswick River, just south of Brunswick.
	The view from said bridge.
	My stop on the second night was Savannah. This picture isn't Route 17, nor are the next two.
	This is another "E Bay" Street. They're just trying to be cool like Jacksonville.
	The John P. Rousakis Riverfront Plaza. Hutchinson Island is visible in the background. South Carolina is beyond that.
	Back on Route 17 again, it shares a brief concurrency with I-16, then bails right before the interstate ends in downtown Savannah.
	South Carolina is visible in the distance.

	A welcome sign! I'm welcome in South Carolina, so take that, Georgia!
	South of Ridgeland was one of the most desolate stretches of Route 17. Traffic/buildings were virtually nil for several miles.
	North of Ridgeland is the second concurrency with I-95. So much for avoiding the interstates. *grits teeth*
	Unlike Jacksonville, though, signs actually share useful 17-related information.
	Outside of Charleston.
	The "Arthur Ravenel Jr." bridge leading out of the city..
	Between Charleston and Myrtle Beach, 17 is nice, fast, divided highway with no traffic lights. Here, the road cuts through the Francis Marion National Forest.
	Near Myrtle Beach, I begin to see mileposts again. Though there are a few diamond interchanges, this picture should really be of a red light. Myrtle Beach was the only real hassle with traffic lights along Route 17.

	North Carolina. And a sign welcomes again. Georgia is dead to me.
	Route 17 bypasses Wilmington along I-140. (Sorry for the blurry picture, this was actually the better one of two!) North Carolina had 17 upgraded to an expressway more than any other state.
	Turnarounds like this one kept popping up in the southern part of the state, sometimes only a half-mile apart. While Florida/Georgia/South Carolina kept prodding me to get on I-95, North Carolina just wanted me to go back to South Carolina.
	New Bern's expressway bypass. After this, Route 17 would become an undivided country road, with little traffic after dark. Let's just say it was fun to navigate (and smell). Fortunately, it would become an expressway again before Elizabeth City.
	Driving out of Elizabeth City, my third stop.

	Welcome to Virginia! (my radar detector was less welcome)
	Concurrency with I-64 south of Norfolk.
	"Must... follow... sign..."
	Route 17 goes by many different names as I go from city to city. In Portsmouth, it must be where they sell "the good stuff."
	This drive through Virginia is brought to you by Mountain Dew Voltage. Caffeine always was my drug of choice.
	The James River Bridge, once the longest bridge in the world over water (according to Wikipedia).
	Route 17 goes through Colonial National Historical Park.
	Rats! I was hoping to avoid these. *shakes fist at Virginia Department of Transportation*
	One thing I always notice about Virginia is that every unpaved dead-end street has a route number assigned to it. Since there must be more than 1,000 streets in the state, I assume these are county roads or something else.
	For the most part, Route 17 through Virginia was a fast, divided, full-access highway. A very scenic drive, too.
	Winchester appears on a sign for the first time. Route 17 will end in 98 miles. *sob* I would like to say here that Canon makes good cameras. I'd been waiting for this sign, and it suddenly appeared in the middle of a curve. I only had a couple of seconds to grab the camera, turn it on, and take the shot... and the picture came out good!
	North of Port Royal.
	The last concurrency with I-95, in Fredericksburg.
	I think I read somewhere that 17 originally ended in Fredericksburg, but was later extended.
	I'm now west of I-95, and the once-coastal Route 17 continues inland toward the Appalachians.
	There's a brief concurrency with Routes 15 and 29. 15 runs up to New York, and 29 cuts across Washington DC to end outside of Baltimore. Warrenton = 15/17/29 Leesburg = US 15 North Winchester = US 17 North (no love for where 29 goes)
	North of Warrenton.
	The final concurrency with an interstate highway: I-66.
	As you'll see, this is the last stretch of 17 that's "just" 17, between Delaplane and Paris. Ooh, Paris. I do see such exotic places... hey, wait!
	In a sense, unofficially, this is the end of US 17. From this intersection all the way to Winchester, 17 is concurrent with US 50. I fail to see the point of them continuing the route.
	Point or no point, though, it's still officially part of 17, so I'm still drivin' it.
	It's hard to see in the photo, but there's a balloon in the distance to the left.
	This is 17/50's intersection with I-81. Though it says that Route 17 continues, this was the last time that the "17" shield appeared on any sign.
	So, where does that highway go to? About 1,200 miles after I left Punta Gorda, Florida, I behold the northern end of Route 17: Winchester, Virginia. I'll note that neither city put proper "BEGIN 17" or "END 17" signage up. Oh well, one highway in the system down, several hundred to go. Just kidding. Maybe.

	Of course, since 17 didn't end in Massapequa, New York, I still have some driving to do, and I'm still avoiding the interstates. After struggling to navigate around Winchester (turns out they lack a lot more than an "END 17" sign), I start north on Route 11. This is the border with West Virginia. My brief cut through the panhandle is the first time I've been in the state, which has the world's only BP gas station without a public restroom.
Bonus question: After taking the above picture, what was the first thing Grabow did? 1. Wonder where he could check out some sweet coal-mining antiques. 2. Put some fine country bluegrass on the radio. 3. Turned his radar detector ON.
	I stopped in Hagerstown, Maryland, and took this on my way back to Route 11, along US 40.
	Back on 11, my interstate road trip held up by a car slowly turning into a parking lot. I planned to make that comment about a school bus, but I never got stopped by any.
	Welcome to Pennsylvania. Not my first time in the state, but my first time driving in it.
	Changing routes in Chambersburg.
	So begins my drive along US 30, through southern Pennsylvania to Philadelphia.
	Roundabout in Gettysburg. I ran into a few of these, actually.
	East Berlin still exists, comrades! There are even "Speed Limit" signs around there. I knew speed limits were communist.
	Route 30 goes through Lancaster as an expressway.
	I was starting to worry that I wouldn't see any of these. This was in a McDonalds parking lot.
	*smacks head* "So, that's what I've been doing wrong!" Philadelphia was wall-to-wall red lights, and most of them were accompanied by these helpful signs.
	Route 30 crosses downtown Philly, concurrent with I-676 into New Jersey.
	I follow US 130, a spur of the highway I just came from, up through New Jersey. Thankfully, that one bridge in Virginia would remain the only toll I had to pay... until crossing Manhattan. And, as expected, Manhattan would make up for it. $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
	After Route 130 ended, my final stretch along the US highway system would be US 1, concurrent with US 9, until I got off in Newark, around 6:00pm, October 23. The less I remember about New Jersey roads at this point, the better.
So, that's it. I went up by a different, unconventional route, and conquered an entire highway in the process. Unfortunately, unlike US 1 or historic Route 66, there was no gift shop along the way trying to sell me a highway 17 shirt or refrigerator magnet. There was no grand "Mile 0" on either end, or even the standard "BEGIN"/"END" signs. (I understand Punta Gorda used to have a southbound end sign, but failed to replace it after hurricane Charley). The traffic lights weren't nearly as bad as I expected (Myrtle Beach, Winchester, and Philadelphia aside), and some stretches of the highway felt like an interstate, even when it wasn't actually concurrent with one.