Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Traffic

A stretch of Highway 31 -
Parallel to the Pennsylvania Turnpike

I was immersed in my favorite romance novel, lulled by the familiar story and the drumming of rain on the roof, when the car slowed and D cursed, quiet and deadly. I looked up and saw the sea of taillights stretching for what seemed like miles, and I knew we were in trouble.

It was the Monday of Labor Day weekend, and we were headed back to New York after four days with my family in Pittsburgh. We should have left first thing in the morning, but it had been my little sister's wedding weekend, so we were wildly tired and not in much of a hurry to start a nearly 400 mile drive. We saved our packing until the alarm went off, and then decided to stay for lunch. It was nearly 2:30 in the afternoon by the time we pulled away. We knew we wouldn't get home until after nine, but at that moment, we didn't really care.

And then, just an hour into our drive, we saw the taillights. This wasn't slow-moving traffic. This was no-moving traffic.

Resigned to some extra time in the car, I kicked off my shoes, put my feet up, and continued to read; I was just getting to the good part. 

But D was having none of that. He flipped through the radio stations, trying to get some news. But there was nothing.

A burly, ruddy-faced trucker ambled down the highway on foot, rain streaming off of his grimy cap. As he passed our car, D rolled down the window and asked if he knew what was going on.

"Accident. Bodies on the highway, dahn 'ere 'bout two miles," he said in his Western Pennsylvania drawl. "Yinz ain't goin' nowhere."

That was all D needed to hear to catapult him to action. With his iPad in one hand and his phone in the other, he tried to find a way out. He called my brother-in-law, still at my parent's house, so that he could add a desktop computer to the mix, as if sheer volume of technology alone could somehow teleport us out of the traffic.

He thought he saw an exit on the map, about half a mile ahead, but he couldn't be sure, and we couldn't see it from the car. 

"Get in the driver's seat," he ordered. "I'm going to check it out."

Not thrilled with the idea of him walking up the shoulder of the Pennsylvania Turnpike in the pouring rain, I tried to protest. But he would not be deterred. With only a wrinkled old jacket he liberated from the deep recesses of the trunk to shield him from the rain, he headed up the highway. 

Ten minutes passed, then twenty. Then my phone rang.

"It's not an exit. It's a service ramp to a road that runs parallel to the turnpike, but it's blocked by an electric gate. The Turnpike Authority won't open the gate because then we can avoid the toll."

As he continued to speak, I saw him coming towards the car, jacket heavy with rain. I switched to the passenger seat as he flung open the door and grabbed his iPad, scrolling madly.

He found the road on the map. It ran parallel to the turnpike for almost one hundred miles. We could avoid the traffic, and then some. 

"I have to find a way to open that gate."

Content to sit and read my book until the traffic finally cleared, I disagreed vehemently with this plan, but to no avail. Back into the rain he ran.

Another ten minutes. Then twenty. Then my phone rang again.

"We pushed it open!" he screamed, over the drumming of the rain.

And as the words were coming out of his mouth, the cars ahead of me started to move.

I threw the car in drive, and cut someone off to get into the right lane. As I inched the car forward, D re-appeared. He was running down the highway, ducking into windows of cars as he passed them and saying something to the drivers that I was too far away to hear. 

I vaulted over the center console as he approached our car and jumped behind the wheel.

"I did it," he said. "I can get everybody out."

The drivers around us were confused, so D opened his window, stuck his hand and head out and waved for them to get moving.

"Follow me to freedom!" he said.

And they did.

At least one hundred cars had already made it through the opened gate and onto the service road by the time we approached. As we made our way up the ramp, a Turnpike Authority sheriff appeared and motioned for us to turn around. 

"No way in hell," said D. "Put your hand on your stomach," he ordered. Too shocked at the events of the past hour to do anything but obey, my hand automatically went to my stomach.

"My wife is pregnant," he yelled to the stern looking sheriff.

I was nothing of the sort.

But the sheriff waved us through, while simultaneously closing the gate on the car directly behind us. D gunned the engine, and we flew through the gate and onto Highway 31 - 100 miles of traffic-free driving, exactly parallel to the Turnpike.

We were home by ten, just half an hour behind schedule.

We found out later that it was 7:00 that night before the traffic started to clear.

34 comments:

  1. Having been held up on the PA Turnpike before, I understand why D was anxious to get off the road. Glad you made it home safely!

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    1. Traffic on the Turnpike is the worst. Almost (but not quite!) worse than NY traffic.

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  2. That's so awesome! I love how your husband had you put your hand on your stomach! Perfect! I'm surprised, though, that the Turnpike Authority wouldn't let everyone use that road to go around the accident. Probably because it makes sense, huh?

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    1. They wouldn't let anyone out using the service ramp to the parallel highway because doing that would allow everyone to bypass the toll, and since it was Labor Day Weekend, they would end up losing a lot of money in tolls. Crazy, right?

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  3. Wow, that was so lucky! I love how you captured the trucker's accent. My husband wouldn't have been able to stand the traffic, but his alternate routes end up badly.

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  4. that's a great story!!! my husband applauds your husband's innovation and determination. :)

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    1. Haha thanks. He was definitely determined, and got us out of that traffic in spectacular fashion.

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  5. Ha! Great story. When we were in Atlanta traffic over Thanksgiving my husband had out both smartphones and the GPS on his lap. It was like a moon launch, the amount of data collection going on. I was happy to just hang back, counting the safe number of car lengths to the car in front of us. :)

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    1. Maybe needed to use every electronic device available to plot a route out of traffic is a guy thing? I am the worst navigator in history, and when I try and do it we always end up fighting, so I mostly just like to kick back and watch the show.

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  6. Tension! I loved the clear contrast between your attitude and his.

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    1. I think it might have something to do with growing up in New York City, but he is positively unwilling to sit in any form of traffic for any period of time whatsoever. I am far more willing to tough it out and always assume that the gridlock is just about to end.

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  7. My husband would get on very well with your husband. I on the other hand want to know the name of the book.

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  8. What book were you reading!? And I would have been with him--- I can't stand waiting. Great tension

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    1. It was a Nora Roberts book of course...one of her mysteries, called Birthright.

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  9. Loved this story. I love the contrast between your reactions to the situations as well

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  10. Totally funny! I'm too goody goody to break a gate open!

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  11. I was on the edge of my seat waiting for something dark to happen the whole time. Too many books running through my brain! I loved your casualness and D's determination. I would have been just like you...content to read.

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    1. Nothing dark! Just the work of an amazing quick thinker and problem solver with a strong urge to help.

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  12. This was great. I always crack up with people go into high tech problem solving mode because of traffic. It reminds me of people who are obsessed with knowing the weather forecast. There's only so much knowledge can help you in these situations.

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    1. He was in serious high-tech problem solving mode. I had really never seen anything like it before. I have never been a huge traffic avoider myself. I always just assume it will clear up, and am usually ok to hang out until it does. But in this case, his need to never, ever sit in traffic, even for 5 minutes, served us well because we ended up on a really great road with barely any other cars while the Turnpike was in complete gridlock.

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  13. I like your husband's take charge attitude. It's preferable to sitting in the car and complaining. This is a great story. Seems like it was worth it to spend time with your little sister after her wedding. That's sweet.

    On another subject... my brand new blog was presented with a Liebster Award. Being so new to all of this I don't know if you have ever received one. I need to start a Twitter account, I think, to ask questions. Anyway, I have passed on the award to you. I love your blog, your beautiful nature, your compassion. Here is my post about the award: http://restraintunfettered.com/2012/12/05/endearments/

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  14. Sorry, but I was just curious the whole way through. What is your favorite romance novel? And, do you ever plan on writing your own romance novel? Sorry I kind of got off track; that's all I could think of through the traffic. :)

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    1. It's called Birthright, by Nora Roberts. And yes! I have a binder full of ideas for a romance series, and recently started on the first one.

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  15. What a story...glad you managed to get thru the gate.

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  16. Such a well-told story! And D is now my traffic hero. I really admire his tenacity and how well you worked together as a couple. You didn't agree with his plan, but you trusted and respected him enough to go along with it. That there is the making of a long, happy marriage, my friend.

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    1. He is my traffic hero too. I'm afraid I didn't really do the story justice, it was that unbelievable to see. I wish I had the entire thing on video.

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  17. This was riveting Samantha! It sounded like fiction, but totally believable. Here you were reading a romance novel, when the whole time your handsome prince of a hubby hero was with you the whole time. Loved it!

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    1. He was! He is definitely the guy you want in your foxhole when something bad (or inconvenient) happens. A serious quick-thinker who always has plans A, B, C and D (and for good measure, E-H too).

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  18. Loved this! Such vivid imagery and yes, your husband is my traffic hero too. I'm so impressed he thought of some way to get past the sheriff that quickly.

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  19. It's funny, I can sit in traffic if I'm driving, but absolutely not if I'm the passenger. Love that your husband got out and opened up the gate!

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  20. Your hubby's like a cowboy hero! Woo hoo! But something is wrong with a system that would rather have hundreds (thousands?) of cars sit there for hours because of a serious accident, for the sake of the tolls, than let people JUST GO HOME, for crying out loud.

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  21. I completely agree with Bill!! This was SO well written!!
    What a story!

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  22. That happened to me once. I ended up doing an illegal U-turn on I-95 to get out of it. (Probably the most rebellious thing I've done.) A four hour trip became an eight hour one. Fun times. At least we made it home alive!

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