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di's Insite
Back 'n Forth Roads
I am now living in a city where roads are being torn up just to aggravate us newbies. For example, the other day I drove with good directions and still missed the road I was to turn onto. Well, I do that a lot anyhow, but that is beside the point! I found the road I needed one night because someone told me to 'at the end of the orange barrels, turn left.' And that night he was right. However, a couple of days later, those barrels were added to-- there were many more. Well, it was daylight and I had only found the place before when it was dark.
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Driving in the dark, I find the road signs light up much better with headlights shining on them. In the daytime, the squirrels pull the branches down with their fat nut-filled bodies, making the leaves cover those road signs that lead into curving suburban streets. The highway workers are in cohorts with them: They sometimes pull up a road sign, lay it against a tree, right beside the adjoining road. Then they pretend to be drilling or waving orange flags so you cannot concentrate on the road or they will jump in front of your van just to make you look right into their orange vests that become tangled in your windshield wipers.
These brave road workers must have good insurance though. I think some have a kind of rapport with engines and brake systems. I know my van seems to pay attention to them, and must take orders from them telepathy-style. They curse me and throw me against the hard steering wheel just so they can teach me sign language. It doesn't work though: I can only guess what sign is being presented. I don't think they are too smart; they can only sign with one finger. They need to learn how to use both hands.
One worker seemed smarter than the rest, and being a woman, I guess we understood each other much better than the male ones I generally drive across. She had a long blonde pony tail sticking out the back of her cap, which by the way, was quite chic with her bright orange vest decorated with buttons to match those on her cap. Anyhow, she held up her sign proudly, pointing it towards me. I didn't want to discourage her by telling her it would look better pointed towards the sky-- not to mention, much safer. I slowly tried to go around her, but that big bulldozer had a crane on it just above me. I should be more generous with my praise here. She rescued me just in time before the van either was buried alive in that dug up wasteland, or subjected to a dirt bath. She could tell the van did not need another dirt bath, bless her heart; she waved that flag like a matador, waiting for me to charge right to it. I did what I could to make her happy.
Driving around road workers always lead to detours. Being the encouraging person I am, I followed her directions and drove around the flag. A breeze must have picked up (I keep my van windows closed so I'm not sure just when the wind started) as her flag started waving in earnest. A green sign ahead pointed me to follow it to the highway I needed to meet. I did what most do: I followed it.
Here, the construction has altered the entrance and exits of all the highways. I drove to the west ramp only to meet another sign saying it was closed. I would have ignored the sign: I could see the highway was still there and cars zooming past. But just as I was about to turn the wheels, another car painted white (they seem to be overstocked with those or they are outdated and need to use them up-- too many are being circulated.) drove right up in front of me, turned sideways and stopped.
Well no use arguing with squatter's rights when the said evacuee was a cop. He ignored me; he must of been in a hurry to get a glimpse of that female flag waver. I drove on, thinking to find the next on-ramp. This time, I came upon a stop sign someone forgot to pull out. Now, I would have done my duty and reported it, but I didn't want to discourage highway romance!
Miles later, still no on-ramp without a closed sign. Someone sure has become rich from producing those signs. Without directions on closed ramps, (now there is an idea for some entrepreneur) I decided to find a turn around that still had concrete. There was a side road up ahead so I took that one. Side roads here start out as concrete then ever so subtly, they end up with long dirt roads without any driveways on them for me to turn around.
I drove for a long time on that new dirt road. I never did find the on-ramp but I did find the farmer's market! Next time I need to remember how to get to a place, I am going to ask the flag lady-- bet she will remember me.
Note: Have you a highway-getting lost story? Email me about it-- I am doing a story on the perils/delights of our highways.
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Read di's other column and her kid's continuing story on:
Dangled Carrots and Wigglebutt's Adventures by di
© 1999 di
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