Books. Bikes. Boomsticks.
“I only regret that I have but one face to palm for my country.”
Monday, August 11, 2014
Ugh.
Nightmare drive home. Multiple bands of heavy rain and then road construction in southern Indiana slowed my progress by enough to dump me into downtown Indianapolis right at 5:00PM.
I'm going to go sit in a corner and rock quietly for a bit. .
Indy rush hour is worse than Knoxville but nothing to Atlanta... but that's beside the point: Any rush hour sucks big rocks up off the ground if you get to it after five and a half hours of interstate driving, most of it in a succession of "I can't see my hood ornament!"-level squall lines.
I visited my aunt and grandfather here in Atlanta from Misery back in late September 2012. Rode all the way to Paducah in rain so heavy I could barely see out of my visor, particularly on I-285 and off and on all the way up 75 and 24. Chattanooga, normally a 10 minute traverse, was an hour-long torture session of lane splitting and shoulder antics. Then more storms all the way up to Nashville. After Nashville the rain stopped and the temps plunged. I didn't have any decently warm jacket (although I did have a First Gear rain jacket, so it wasn't TOTALLY miserable) and got very cold. By the time I reached Paducah it was well after dark and I had 300 miles left. Not wanting 5 more hours of wretched misery I shacked up at the Motel 6 and had the best damn margarita in living memory at the Mexican restaurant across the street....three of them, in fact. Worth every sip!
Thunder crackled overhead when we were doing some shrubbery pruning - it was right overhead. The driveway was in shadow while the deck was 93-degrees. Hangtown got an inch in a half-hour. Flash-floods to the north, it's definitely a El Nino year coming on.
This weekend I made a trip from Asheville to just north of Philadelphia and back. All the way up 81, With a shortcut through Harpers Ferry, and around Baltimore went perfectly fine. Once I got on 95 North the closer I got to Filthydelphia the more maniacs I encountered. It'd been 30 years since I'd last been up there and the traffic was just as bad as ever.
The posts about old cars reminded me of an odd rainstorm one morning, about '72, on the way home from working in a bakery. Garden State Parkway, south of Atlantic City, is very flat, and the rain was so heavy, it couldn't drain quick enough to keep the water from building up. 1" to 2" deep, and my '65 Mustang only had a single speed wiper motor. I gave up trying to drive, and sat on the shoulder after slithering off the pavement. Bright morning sunshine, and I couldn't see much beyond my hood. Good thing I was the only vehicle on the road.
Well, I THINK I was the only person out there! No one visible before, or after, the storm.
Que the "traffic" measuring contest in 3.... 2....
ReplyDeleteShort version: The volume of traffic is relative to location, and it sucks compared to whatever a day of smooth sailing is.
Josh,
ReplyDeleteIndy rush hour is worse than Knoxville but nothing to Atlanta... but that's beside the point: Any rush hour sucks big rocks up off the ground if you get to it after five and a half hours of interstate driving, most of it in a succession of "I can't see my hood ornament!"-level squall lines.
Long as you are not mumbling...
ReplyDeleteDriving in strong rain cells is very stressful indeed.
ReplyDeleteOuch... Rocking and trying to get the hands to unlock are always 'fun'... not
ReplyDeleteI visited my aunt and grandfather here in Atlanta from Misery back in late September 2012. Rode all the way to Paducah in rain so heavy I could barely see out of my visor, particularly on I-285 and off and on all the way up 75 and 24. Chattanooga, normally a 10 minute traverse, was an hour-long torture session of lane splitting and shoulder antics. Then more storms all the way up to Nashville. After Nashville the rain stopped and the temps plunged. I didn't have any decently warm jacket (although I did have a First Gear rain jacket, so it wasn't TOTALLY miserable) and got very cold. By the time I reached Paducah it was well after dark and I had 300 miles left. Not wanting 5 more hours of wretched misery I shacked up at the Motel 6 and had the best damn margarita in living memory at the Mexican restaurant across the street....three of them, in fact. Worth every sip!
ReplyDeleteTom
Home safe? Its all good. Crack a brew and decompress....
ReplyDeleteGlad you are home safe. Sorry for the rush hour crap. Hell, we even have a mini one here now. Not that way 20 years ago.
ReplyDeleteThunder crackled overhead when we were doing some shrubbery pruning - it was right overhead. The driveway was in shadow while the deck was 93-degrees. Hangtown got an inch in a half-hour. Flash-floods to the north, it's definitely a El Nino year coming on.
ReplyDeleteIf it's moving, it ain't traffic... Lol
ReplyDeleteUlises from LA
Have a good beer and some bacon.
ReplyDeleteIf you were coming up I-65, you ought to have stopped at http://www.oakenbarrel.com/ and waited out the storm+traffic.
ReplyDeleteThis weekend I made a trip from Asheville to just north of Philadelphia and back. All the way up 81, With a shortcut through Harpers Ferry, and around Baltimore went perfectly fine. Once I got on 95 North the closer I got to Filthydelphia the more maniacs I encountered. It'd been 30 years since I'd last been up there and the traffic was just as bad as ever.
ReplyDeleteFind "the Frog." He'll help you.
ReplyDeletegvi
The posts about old cars reminded me of an odd rainstorm one morning, about '72, on the way home from working in a bakery. Garden State Parkway, south of Atlantic City, is very flat, and the rain was so heavy, it couldn't drain quick enough to keep the water from building up. 1" to 2" deep, and my '65 Mustang only had a single speed wiper motor. I gave up trying to drive, and sat on the shoulder after slithering off the pavement. Bright morning sunshine, and I couldn't see much beyond my hood. Good thing I was the only vehicle on the road.
ReplyDeleteWell, I THINK I was the only person out there! No one visible before, or after, the storm.