The Hiking Writer

2 days ago.

Let me set the stage.

We finally got some rain. In fact, since Monday evening, it has been steady with only a trickle today but more is forecast. We've had over 6 inches of rain this week and zero flooding. That speaks volumes about how bad our drought has been.

But during 36 hours from Monday night through Tuesday, we got 4+ inches. That's some pretty steady heavy rain.

So, flashback to the commute home Tuesday afternoon. (Yes, my commute is damn dangerous.) A seriously heavy rain is falling as I merge into slow moving traffic on Interstate 65 from the 10th Street cloverleaf in Jeffersonville Indiana. The Kennedy bridge looms in the misty rain blatting against my windshield. 3 lanes of mixed traffic from reasonably swift in the left lane to a near standstill in the right lane. As the only Interstate crossing directly into the heart of downtown Louisville, this artery is in need of an angioplasty.

The right lane never gets moving very fast because that is the only lane for exiting I65 to I64 West and I64 East. (Brilliant city planning this ain't).

The middle lane is made up of about 1/3 of traffic that will eventually merge right and take the I64 exits, the other two thirds are merrily headed South and are always a little irate at the break lights and the right turn signals winking in front of them. On a rainy day like today, with standing water all around and pendulous rivulets coming down from the steel bridge girders, break lights in front of big rig could spell disaster.

The left lane is the fast lane. This is a relative term for the Kennedy bridge. On days like today, the fast lane is doing 45 MPH.

So the stage is set. The strategy is simple.

You have 2 options if you want to cross the bridge and exit onto I64.

Option 1: Resign yourself to the slow lane on the right, and creep across the bridge, doing about .5 miles in about 10-15 minutes

or

Option 2: get into the slightly speedier middle or left lanes and roll the dice, look for a slow moving truck in the right lane at the last second and scoot into the hole just before the exit.

I'm an Option 2 sort of driver most days.

Mind you, even though I choose Option 2, I'm NOT one of those drivers that will come to a complete stop in the middle lane of an Interstate if I can't find an elusive hole in the right lane traffic. If YOU are one of those drivers, STOP DOING THAT. You'll live longer. And besides, you can take the next exit, loop around and get back on the Interstate in about 5 minutes. Just remember, if you roll the dice with Option 2, you might roll snake eyes. Take the loss and drive on, don't create an "it's all about me" moment and cause accidents behind you, asshole.

So on this fine Tuesday, Option 2 is a little dicey. The rain is bad enough, but once I start to cross the bridge, some sort of tiny bridge trolls are slopping rain buckets onto my windshield from the crisscrossed steel beams above. I'm making good time and suddenly, in the middle lane of an Interstate, there is a large standing puddle. This takes me a bit by surprise since one normally doesn't expect large standing puddles in the middle of large highways. I guess I'm jaded that way. Usually, I trust engineers to design highways with water drainage as a consideration.

At about 40 MPH,  SPLOOOOOSH, I cut through the puddle as I move both hands to the 2 and 10 position for better control. Not bad, minimal hydroplaning, a little squidgyness at the end where it feels like the car is not really in contact with the road. I hold the steering wheel steady and feel my tires return to the road from their momentary aquatic hiatus.

"Well now, that was a little exciting" I think to myself, my eyes wide with exhileration. At about two-thirds of the way across the Kennedy, I see my mark.  A panel truck, never much for getting off the line from a dead stop, is creating a nice big hole in the stop-and-go traffic and already some of my Option 2 brethren are darting into the chasm.  Unexpectedly, the empty flatbed semi in front of me is also an Option 2-er. The traffic hole is almost full and there is just enough room for a Toyota Corolla, so I fill the void and slow down, now safely in the exit lane. 

But Mr Flatbed is speeding up a little, and for a moment, it seems like someone has uncorked the dam. Traffic is moving on the exit ramp and I'm about to reach the beginning of the exit when I see "it" with some alarm. You've all seen "it" I'm sure. Personally, I hate "it".

"It" is that crimson cascade of break lights that starts well ahead of you that causes an electric domino effect. It will reach you soon enough, so you better pay heed. Mr. Flatbed is unprepared and to my chagrin, he hits his airbreaks a little late. I watch in sodden slo-mo as his flatbed wheels lock and the rear of his rig begins a nice little drift to the right toward the concrete retaining wall at the start of the I64 East exit. I tap my breaks in empathy and stop a few inches short of Mr Flatbed's drifting hind quarters. With a nice little bounce, the trucks right rear wheels carom off the concrete and drift back to the center as the truck comes to a complete stop.

Apparently, this happens all the time to Mr. Flatbed. He doesn't even get out to inspect any damage. As the crimson cascade reverses itself and traffic begins to move again, I start breathing and just go with the flow.

Ho hum. Just another commute.