Tag Archives: detours

You Can’t Get There From Here

5 Oct

We live in an area where going around the block means a trip of at least two miles, and more often than not four or five miles.  The government – state or national – is widening I-95, so the most direct route from here to  a major highway is cut off, and the detour adds three miles to the trip.  Last week, when I drove over the detour there was a flashing sign which announced the bridge would be closed as of Monday – the 7th. Marvelous. Just marvelous.

When I came home yesterday afternoon I stopped and asked one of the crew if he had any idea when ‘our’ road would be open. “Not for at least six to eight weeks, ma’am.”

“I know it’s not your fault, but closing off two parallel roads is pretty inconvenient.” For what it’s worth, those two ‘parallel roads’ around two and a half miles apart, but that’s country living for ya.

“I know. I know. We couldn’t believe they put out this contract”, he said, pointing to the equipment and clutter around him, “but that’s the State for you.”

So now, the only way to go north is to drive a mile and a half south and swing back around. Never let your right hand know what your left hand is doing.


15 May

In addition to the work the utility company is doing over here, they have the main road from here to Joppatowne closed off, turning a quick one and half mile zip to the shopping center into a four mile slog.

I went over this morning to run some errands and when I got back there was a message on the answering machine from the alarm company saying the church alarm had ben tripped. Another trip around Robin Hood’s barn to take care of that little problem. The police turned up a few moments after I arrived and they waited until I had checked all the doors before driving away.

The Late and Unlamented never believed in detour signs. He would insist that the road ahead was clear, but that the workers had forgotten to remove the signs. As a result, we often traveled miles out of our way, only to discover the construction people had not gone home and left their equipment behind.  We once traveled five miles to discovered that bridge really was out. No point in my suggesting we do as we were told.

When I was still working downtown, he frequently took me to work. One morning we met a state trooper standing in front of his car, blocking our way down Bel Air Road. He waved us off to the right, down a road which would have taken us where we needed to go.  The L&U drove a half a block and then zipped back unto Bel Air Road by cutting through a church parking lot. “See, the road is clear, and we have it all to ourselves.” Chortle, snicker. Two blocks down, we were met by another trooper, who shunted us off onto another road, this time heading away from our destination.

It turned out there was a gas main break, and the entire area had been evacuated. One of his cigarettes flipped out the car window and we’d have been blown to kingdom come – and taken half the neighbourhood with us.

This morning, there was a dreadful accident on I-95, about fifteen miles north of us. A chartered bus taking a class of students to DC for the day had turned over, sending one child and one chaperone to the hospital – via medivac – in critical condition.   Twenty-some other people were taken by ambulance to various local hospitals with broken bones and other “minor” injuries. Both north and south bound traffic was tied up for hours and detour signs were posted to keep people from taking the on-ramps.

I could just imagine L&U scooting around the blockades and getting himself right in the middle of the whole business, sitting there, steaming and muttering that he had “a lot of luck, and it’s all bad.”