Points of Interest

Robert Frost

Yes indeed. For me it means the difference between getting to where I was supposed to be going on time, versus arriving in some completely different part of the country with the frame bent so I have to look out the side window to drive forward. Still, I have found people to be remarkably tolerant of overwhelming tardiness if you have a Good Story to tell. Especially if you can produce a scar as A/V material.

But why do I choose side roads, 'scenic routes', farm roads, deer paths and the like? Because nothing remotely interesting has ever happened on an interstate unless it involved a dancer named JoJo that you met the night before.

Here then is a sampler of road records:

Biggest pothole: On the main drag near Camden Yards in Baltimore I once encountered a pothole the size of a bathtub. I can only speculate that the local roadcrew dug a hole for some unknown reason, then stood around all day keeping their shovels from falling over, and then packed up and left with all of the dirt and asphalt, leaving behind a slight oversight. Straddling this chasm in the cab of a tractor-trailer at 40 MPH I learned the meaning of the word "gibber". Haven't been back to Baltimore since.

Best on-ramp: The junction of the 22 freeway and Beach Blvd. down in SoCal, is one of the rare perfect clover-leafs. (Hmmm...clover-leaves?) Here, for you non-suburbanites, is what you do: Proceed, say, North on the freeway, exit to street on the big, round right. Now heading West you immediately re-enter the Freeway to head South. Exit to street (East), then back to the freeway (North again.) Great fun for carloads of lonely teenage guys on Saturday nights. What makes this particular junction an award winner is that the four little straightaways between the curving ramps are all dedicated lanes, meaning that you never really have to merge with traffic. Ride the cloverleaf for one circuit and you'll get a laugh; ride it for half an hour and you'll understand four-plane geometry and the eight-fold path - but your date may have exited the vehicle or may be brandishing a weapon at you.

Worst bump: Was when I was walking down a farm road in Nebraska with my Walkman cranked to "Max" and a big rig hurtled past at 100 mph and blew me into a cornfield. The bump was from the reign of ears. More disorienting than painful, but I smelled kinda weird for awhile.

Best Directions: Jacksonville Florida to Cucamonga, California in 3 sentences: 1) I-10 West (long pause). 2) Exit Highland Ave., Right 3) #6281.

Smoothest Road: Hermosa Ave., also in Cucamonga. A former flood control ditch that was paved when the housing tracts came through. Still retains it 3 and 4 ft. river rock curbs. The smooth ride comes after it rains for more than one day and your car floats.

Best Road Sign #1: Central Utah, billboard size: "This is NOT Highway 187." A sign back in town, where the 187 splits off, would've saved all of those U-turns.

Cheapest Road: Highway 128, Eastern Utah. This Ooooold two lane blacktop fords the Colorado River via an ancient single lane wooden bridge that appears to have been assembled by some prehistoric boyscouts. Between that and I-70 are two decent sized feeder streams, each one cutting a respectable arroyo through the wasteland. Apparently they blew the budget on the boyscout bridge though because at each stream there is naught but a small sign reading "pavement ends".

Lane Painters of Drugs: Another unannounced stream crossing, this one outside of Santa Barbara. On the far side of the stream the two lanes (Hmm. Was it two lanes IN the stream?) become a one lane road. But the way it happens is that the white stripe to my left just scooted over to the right in about 50 yards until the lane was gone. I knew when I wasn't invited.

Worst Ramp: Port Authority Bus Terminal, New York City. This is a huge, multi-story building in a single story part of the Bronx. You park on the ground floors, take the elevator up up up to the ticket booth labyrinth, find your appropriate gate and escalate up to your bus stop. Its akin to emerging from a manhole onto a median strip. You wait on your dark island 5 stories (or more) up in the air, you board your bus, and then it dives out of the side of the building - into the bright smog light - and lands (Unh!) on a teeny ramp. Then you luge your way down to the street like a hot wheel track. A bus ride should never be this exciting.

Best Road Sign #2: Coming into Snowmass, Colorado you will you will see a five slat sign. Slat #1 gives the name, #2 the elevation, #3 the population, #4 the date founded, and #5 the total of slats 2 through 4.

Longest Light: A cold, lonely crossroads in Ontario. Twas deep in the night, the time when philosophers with insomnia come and play lo-ball poker in your skull. I seemed to have the entire known world all to myself but the light winked red at me, and so I stopped, and started to feel existensial. The light seemed to be in no hurry so I cleaned out the glove compartment. I was looking for answers. Here is what I found: