The thunderstorms they threatened had created a humid gray haze over the day. The air was thick with moisture, but no rain was to be seen so far. It’s predicted to be another dangerously hot weekend, so post-work I headed off to alternate digs, where central air is available. The 15 minutes I spent in my hotbox of an apartment convinced me that the Friday-night traffic nightmare would be well worth it.
So I told myself as I hit the road.
First there was the traffic. To be expected on a Friday night in the summer time. A bog-down where the Turnpike meets the Parkway (read as: parking lot) meant that all intersecting roads were crawling.
The Turnpike was moving, except in the places one would expect it not to be. And then…
The sky opened.
So, there was the stretch of the trip where the maximum safe speed was 35, because beyond that hydroplaning kicked in.
Then there was the part where 25 was the maximum safe speed, because it was raining so hard and so fast that visibility was nil.
Then I got to the heart of the storm, where the lightning was flashing in every direction and the thunder was crashing simultaneously.
Then I made it to my exit, and left the worst of the storm behind me, when I hit the patch of road where a one-inch puddle tried to hydroplane me right off the road.
And THEN I got closer to my destination, and discovered the storm had been through and left floodwaters along the roadway. PS, it is very unnerving to feel like one is driving IN a river.
But… at last… I am safely at my destination. And huddled under a blanket because it’s cold enough to hang meat in this place. Which, when I think of how I’d be stewing back at my place, is all right with me.