A Tale of Two Cities, Sort Of...

From the Henry Hudson Parkway to W. 42nd St. to 11th Ave. to the Lincoln Tunnel -
And points south...
(Source)

On the 12th of November, in the Year of Our Lord Two-Thousand and Twenty, I began my monthly trip to the land of the newest member of my tribe. What everyone else refers to as "Maryland."

This became a monthly trip when the wee lad came into this world, three months ago Friday as a matter of fact. Went down to meet him, went down to bring The Missus Herself back home in September, then brought Grandma back down in October. This trip is yet another "Grandma Retrieval" mission. While The Nuke would love to have her mother on staff full time, she has turned down the assignment because, as many of you know, raising kids is not easy. Not if you do it right that is.

It's not a bad trip, approximately 407 miles, depending on the route taken. Problem is, the route takes me through two cities, well, two metropolitan areas to be more precise. New York City and Baltimore, the former being the larger of the two. I guess technically the latter is part of the Baltimore - Washington DC metropolitan area. As I don't go deep enough into that area, I just refer to Baltimore. As the main highway skirts the city of Baltimore (goes under the harbor dontcha know?), it's not nearly as troublesome as the NYC Metropolitan Area. The most direct path runs straight through the middle of that one!

So Thursday I thought to avoid NYC completely by traveling up to the Tappan Zee then motoring on down the Palisades Parkway on the New Jersey side. If one takes the Merritt Parkway in Connecticut, that whole NYC Metro Area becomes much easier to stomach. If one doesn't mind the roundabout path to avoid all that. Thursday I thought that that's what I'd do.

Got onto the Merritt Parkway (which is an extremely lovely road with numbers of cool overpasses and lots of trees) and asked Waze to lay in a course for the Tappan Zee. Waze let me know that I would arrive at the bridge over that wide part of the Hudson River at roughly 1230. Which put me off rather a lot. By my calculations, going over the George Washington Bridge would be far quicker, though traffic-wise it's often a complete pain in the nether regions.

As I have started to trust these navigation programs more and more (yes, grandfather I still know how to use a paper map, but it's not easy while driving) I decided to roll the dice and let Waze take me upon the faster route. After entering the environs of "the city" I started to sense a disturbance in the Force, after I looked aghast at my non-human navigator for taking me down the Henry Hudson Parkway to West 42nd Street, I decided to relax and enjoy the experience, fraught with nervousness though it was. (I am most emphatically NOT a fan of driving in major cities, never have been, probably never will be.)

Surprisingly traffic was light, maybe the rain and the fact that it was lunch time kept the local denizens in their boroughs (see what I did there) and left the roads open for Your Humble to break on through to the other side. (Said other side being the New Jersey side of the Hudson River, though I don't think that's what The Doors had in mind when they wrote that song.)

If you're familiar with New York, you might recognize that overhead from Google Maps at the top of this post. Yes boys and girls, your Old AF Sarge (ask me what the AF stands for some time, there are at least two interpretations of that, one is funny, one is correct, both are accurate) was forced into the bowels of Manhattan, onto West 42nd, then to 11th Avenue and then underneath the Hudson via the Lincoln Tunnel. Exciting it was.

Other than one idiot New York driver (sorry, but is there any other kind?) who wished to use a "Buses Only" lane to pass the line of more civilized drivers waiting to make the turn onto 11th Avenue, the trip was educational and interesting. Though the incident on 42nd and 11th might have ruined the entire trip for me, I didn't let it faze me.

Because I was in rather a jolly mood on Thursday (what with the rain and all, my joyful mood can only be attributed to my anticipation of seeing the new grandson) my reaction to this ee-jit driver can best be summarized by this scene from the film Coming to America and the joy Eddie Murphy's character (Prince Akeem Joffer, Prince of Zamunda) felt upon greeting the fair city of New York, once upon a time, as it were... (and here I insert the obligatory Caution, Language Alert)

Upon emerging from the confines of the tunnel into the light of New Jersey (that section of the state always reminds me of a set for some post-Apocalyptic Mel Gibson film) I opted to follow the biggest damn truck heading the same direction I was. Rather using the truck like a down field blocker to clear me a path to the end zone. Or the New Jersey Turnpike, whichever came first.

Saw some amazing things, like a broken double yellow line which had traffic going the same direction on either side. Which to my eye has always meant "two way traffic" but apparently in the Garden State means something else entirely.

I looked it up, just to make sure I wasn't imagining it...
(Source)

But as I was still following Monsieur le Très Gros Camion¹, I did as one should when in Rome (or New Jersey as the case may be), it weren't no trouble at all. I kept on behind the truck until I spotted the sign for the Turnpike, which he was bound for as well. So the plan worked. Would I have rather gone around NYC and not be plunged into its depths? Well sure, but it was interesting and now I can say that I've "been there, done that."

New York was the big adventure, Baltimore, while not quite as dramatic, was kinda up there in the "no fun" category, primarily because of the never ending construction in the area of the Baltimore Harbor Tunnel and the rain. Have I mentioned the rain?

Loading up for the trip it was overcast, though warmish for November, in the 60s. Wasn't raining, just drizzle, drizzle is a state of precipitation which drove me nuts in Big Girl, she only had one intermittent setting on the windshield wipers which was completely inadequate for drizzle. Blue, on the other hand, has about 85 different intermittent speeds on the wipers, so she handles drizzle with great aplomb. But I still dinnae like it.

It rained/drizzled/down-poured nearly the entire trip, but around Baltimore and well into Maryland the rain was nearly of Biblical proportions. Hitting the pavement and misting up into the air so visibility was sheer crap. Oh, did I mention it was foggy as well?

Made for a need to really, really concentrate, and coming at the end of a 400 mile drive, I could have done without it. But hey, I survived, everyone else survived, and, of course, the rain quit shortly after I arrived at the palace in the woods. (Which is what I call The Nuke and Tuttle's maison, it is seriously lovely down there.

The tale of WWII will be delayed until my return to Little Rhody, which should be Sunday, short turn around on this trip.

Until then mes chers amis², be well!

Stay frosty.








With apologies to Charles Dickens, of course.

¹ Mister Very Big Truck

² My dear friends