The traffic light in Lowell is 4.7 miles from my house by the shortest route. This morning it took me 17 minutes to get there by a route you might call "Scenic" if it weren't so foggy. The last time I had to take that route, the highway was underwater; this morning I'm not really sure what the problem was but I'm glad I found a way around it.
I knew something was wrong when I had to wait on the bridge at the end of my driveway while three cars zipped past--and then another 11 cars passed me before I got out to the highway. It's rare to encounter even one car on that mile of road, so 14 cars make a veritable parade. Why was my road suddenly so popular? 7 a.m. is a little early for a wild party.
I made it a mile or so down the highway before I saw signs of trouble: dense fog, flares in the road, a line of stopped traffic so long I couldn't even see what was causing the stoppage. Time to turn around and find another route to town.
Now my road provides an alternate route, but only a fool would call it a short cut. Scenic? On a clear day you get a panoramic view of the power plant five miles upriver. On a foggy day--best keep your eyes on the road.
I followed the Scenic Route down narrow, twisty gravel roads, up steep hills and around blind corners, and I discovered that even with new tires, my car fishtails badly going uphill on gravel. Those roads are not designed to take the kind of traffic volume they carried this morning, especially since drivers facing unexpected delays are not always known for their patience. I breathed a sigh of relief after I found myself finally in Lowell--17 minutes after I left my house.
But at least I got there! Arrive Alive has always been my motto.
No comments:
Post a Comment