Tag Archives: driving

Flood Zone

08 Monday Jun 2015

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Weather stories about the fierce thunderstorms and rampant flooding that have plagued towns and cities across the U.S. have filled the news lately. The rising waters have swept houses off their foundations, and floated automobiles along like hapless toys. After hearing about so much sadness and destruction, it was nice to be on a road trip with nothing but sunshine and clear skies all around. On this particularly beautiful day, the possibility of becoming a part of one of those stories was the farthest thing from my mind.
Water view on a beautiful day

We were cruising along, marveling at the amazing views and speculating that based on the current water levels we were witnessing, this area had certainly been affected by the heavy rains and flooding.
Scenic Bay view

Without warning, we popped over a hill and ran into this…
Water flooding the highway

It was one of those moments when you have to make some big decisions while your brain is still trying to process the data it’s receiving. Traffic was moving forward and there wasn’t anywhere to pull over, turn around, or otherwise avoid getting wet. Or honked at. So, we continued on – in spite of all the warnings from one meteorologist after another, admonishing drivers against this very thing.
Truck cruising through flood area

I quickly assessed the car in front of us and decided that we should drop back a bit more and see what happened to them. Not in a sacrificial sort of way, just cautionary. Our cars were of similar size and distance from the ground, so I figured if they could make it through without stalling, we should be able to do the same.
IMG_0639

Besides, if I could still see the lines on the pavement the water couldn’t be very deep. And the guy sitting in the highway safety truck on the side of the road wasn’t trying to stop us, it had to be OK to proceed. Right?

I didn’t factor in the wake from the big, super-duty trucks traveling in the opposite direction in the next lane. That made for a few breath-holding moments.
IMG_0640

And then I saw this.
They appeared to be in exactly the situation I was hoping to avoid.
Cars sitting in flood waters

Now, this wasn’t exactly like crossing the Red Sea, but prayers were answered and we made it safely across, with the engine in my little HHR still chugging along. As we were exiting the waterway, I noticed these travelers about to enter the bay waters and wanted very much to warn them, “Don’t do it!” But, I didn’t. And I couldn’t stop to watch their progress. I hope they made it.
Bikers navigating flood waters

Oh, and the little town we were passing through…
Runaway Bay

Apropos.

Winnebago Dreams

10 Wednesday Dec 2014

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covered wagon travel
For many years I dreamed of the day when I could hit the road and see a little more of the world, taking right up where I left off BC (before children). I was sure that as soon as they were “grown and gone” I would sell off everything I didn’t need and buy a Winnebago so that I could travel around the country seeing what I could see. That was going to be my answer to the eventual empty nest syndrome. It was going to be…

Well, the children are grown and gone. I down-sized quite a bit, but I still have a garage full of “stuff” I couldn’t bear to part with – yet. And there’s no Winnebago, or covered wagon, in my driveway.

My little HHR has been the stand in, and it has done a great job taming the miles that I have put in so far. But, in the midst of all my travels, I have made an unexpected discovery – I love to “go”, but I’m not all that crazy about the driving these days. It all starts out well enough, I do enjoy seeing the beauty of my surroundings and all of the interesting scenes flying past my window, but after a few hours of being under the wheel I’m suddenly over it and I just want to ‘be there’ – wherever ‘there’ is.

I can remember a time when I would just jump into my car and take off, without a moment’s hesitation. I lived for the pure joy of having someplace to go and the adventure of getting myself there. The prospect of driving for sixteen hours straight didn’t faze me. And then one day, things changed. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but it happened.

Perhaps it was around the time that my ophthalmologist suggested bifocals, or maybe it was the year that I surrendered to the rebel gray and stopped coloring my hair. Now that I think about it, it very well could have been right around the first time some smarty-pants teeny bopper cashier slipped a Senior Citizen discount onto my receipt without asking if I qualified.

These days, I don’t just jump in my car and take off, I carefully calculate time and distance and mood before I embark on one of my adventures. And surprisingly, I have found that I’m not above changing my mind at the last minute and staying home. I’d like to blame my e.m.PD, but I have a sneaking suspicion that getting older is the more viable culprit that makes me less inclined to venture too far from the comforts of home.

Needless to say, I’ve decided to put the Winnebago dream on hold for the present time. At least, until I meet a travel buddy who loves to drive, or they invent autopilot for motor homes.

It could happen.