Enough. I’d had my fill of this Pacific Northwest climate. I didn’t care if the only way out took me into the Hubs of Hell. I needed to dry out, forest fires and triple-digit heat be damned.
I had hoped to get an early start to beat commuter traffic in the Seattle metro area, but breakfast, a self-inflicted haircut, a campground shower and stopping for gas put me behind schedule. (Ugh, schedules.)
I was under way at last. Until I wasn’t. I and a hundred or so other drivers had to wait about a half hour for a drawbridge. A big container ship or tanker perhaps? A Navy vessel? No, three sailboats. Ah yes, let’s have the little people stop so the yachties won’t be inconvenienced.
At least the Rolling Steel Tent’s air conditioner, set to warm, was doing a fine job of dehumidifying.
Okay, I was moving again. Until I wasn’t. Traffic was at a crawl on I-5 because of construction. And people. (Ugh, people.)
After creeping along for another half hour, traffic got up to speed and… BAP! A stone came from somewhere and put a nickel-sized chip in the windshield. X@/¿*#!!!! It happened last week, too. Why me? Both times I was driving below the speed limit with plenty of following distance. Last week’s divot was below and slightly to the right of my line of sight. The new one is on the left edge but level with my eyes. If those two decide to join up, it’ll be new windshield time. Again.
There was an uneventful hour cruising along, clouds clearing, humidity dropping, feeling better about the world (except for the X@/¿*# rock chip) when traffic slowed to a crawl again for construction. I had the misfortune of spending most of the next half hour next to a semi with extra
It was seriously hot by the time I stopped for a pee break in Ellensburg, and I was seriously worn out and seriously cranky. Ahead of me was one of the least pleasant stretches in the state, a trip that would best be tackled early in the morning. Oh look, a budget hotel across the street. I wonder if they have a vacancy. They did.
When unavoidable things happen to bring on crankiness, I have a mind game I play called: It could be worse!
ReplyDeleteFor instance the rock could have been dropped from an overpass creating the sound of a rifle shot and fist size depression. There could have been skittering of glass on the outside & shattered shards on the dash. It could have happened in the center lane of five during a CT city evening rush. Your first option to pull over could have been a rest area in New York state. You might have had to suffer angst all the miles to OH. Would it hold together? Would it shatter entirely? You get my drift. And yep, I do have pics of that particular ding in my windshield.
My problems tend to be small and few, so, yes, it could be worse. That's generally how I approach life, but the internet gives me the chance to whine a little, so I take it.
Delete"Triple digits and forest fires" but they don't tell you about the "Bees"
ReplyDeleteStill just a bit ahead of you though I took a more Northerly route. Cascades NP is nice and at Grand Coulee temp was 108F still nice route, but the bees keep you from being outside much. Smoke wasn't too bad (so far).
Chip repair kits are not too expensive, and there are how-to videos on YouTube. I have a couple to fix myself.
ReplyDeleteYou are smart to head that way. Although I am sad you didn't stop in Maple Valley for an Al only, one person RV spot just waiting for you. The smoke from Canada is almost gone however, California's smoke is due here Monday.
ReplyDeleteEveryone that goes near Seattle on I5 or 405 has the same swear words as you. You are so lucky because you don't have to do that slog twice a day, every day. Very smart man!
Would a hood mounted rock shield prevent any of your chips or are they just attracted to your snazzy van?
MV gal
That's why I moved my young family back to Montana God's country; I to tired of driving city bus 40 miles in 2 hours. I do enjoy the city of Seattle and the peninsula s of orcas islands
ReplyDelete