As some of you know, we went to Rhode Island in June for our granddaughter’s baptism. It was one of the most tense, stressful drives I have ever endured.
(I think the only one that was worse, was when we drove from Rhode Island to Gettysburg, PA back in 1999 and traveled the Jersey Turnpike during rush hour. That drive had me gripping the door handle so tightly, I couldn’t straighten my fingers for a while after we got into PA.)
When we left home, the weather was overcast and spitting rain. Unfortunately, it did not improve as we drove east.
Approximately 30 minutes before we hit Albany, we ran into road construction – the east bound lanes were dug up and diverted to half of the west-bound lanes. Because of this, the signs had been taken down. We missed the exit and had to take the longer way south.
Then we missed the next exit that would take us across the Hudson River to the Mass Turnpike. We ended up way too far south — almost to Poughkeepsie. Of course, I got the
blame credit for missing the exit, because I was going by written notes from a previous trip and had forgotten to pack the map.
We took one of the exits and asked the young booth attendant how to get headed back north and get on the Mass. Turnpike. He told us to keep going south and take Route 84 east through Connecticut.
After another 20 minutes of driving south, and a lot of snarkiness being thrown about, we took the next exit and asked the elder gentleman how we could get back on and head north to hit the Turnpike.
He told us that if there were no police watching, we could make a U-turn and get back on. I wondered what the police had to do with it; but looked to my right, and what do I see?
A State Trooper barracks just on the other side of the fence.
We looked in all directions, and did a U-turn. It was only then that I noticed the sign that prohibited U-turns. Ah-huh!
The same elderly gentleman handed us a ticket and nodded, “Very nicely done.”
Finally, we headed back north, only an hour behind schedule.
This is a picture of the Castleton-on-Hudson Bridge that we missed on the first attempt:
Jeanne, your beautiful mountains were shrouded in mist and rain:
Twice we almost rear-ended the car in front of us because they put on their brakes suddenly, and we just slid when we tried to slow down. It seemed as if the road was covered with ice, not rain water.
When we finally arrived at the hotel, our normal 6 hour drive had been turned into an 8 hour nail-biter.
But, thank God, Sunday morning dawned bright and clear and we had a marvelous baptism service. The grandchildren spent the afternoon in the “pond”.
The drive home on Monday was also dark and rainy.
We had one scary moment when we had to pass a tractor trailer that was pulling tandem trailers. It was swerving from the rumble strips at the edge of the pavement to the center line and back again; but it was going so slowly we had to go by it.
A few minutes later, we pulled into a rest stop, and I shook my head at the thought that it was going to go by and we would have to pass it again eventually. Thankfully, we didn’t see it again.
We finally arrived back home safe and sound, and this weary traveler felt like kissing the ground; but sent a very heart-felt prayer of thanks heavenward.
© Drusilla Mott and https://drusillamott.wordpress.com, 2012