eseme: (Default)
Tonight the news actually mentioned the highway exit near to where I live. I could see part of my road on the map.

There was a pothole.

It's spring in Maine. Normally this is not news.

Size of pothole: 15 feet long, 2 feet wide, 8 inches deep.

An SUV overturned, and there was a pileup.

They had to close one of the lanes of the highway.

Ye gods! Not sure driving is safe...
eseme: (dark)
I made it back to Maine. I hurt everywhere.

Traffic in Massachusetts got better as it got later in the day.

Blargh.

More Owies

Dec. 20th, 2007 11:56 pm
eseme: (Default)
Yay for fun job interview.

Gah for long drive.

Back safe in the frozen northlands.

*thud*
eseme: (abyss)
It is very loud here today, as a bunch of people showed up at 7:00 Am to put in a new floor. And as I cam oddly not working today (my schedule has gone rather weird) I thought I would answer the questions about the trip to Pennsylvania.

I may one day have to be able to spell that state's name correctly, as this was for a job interview. The same thing goes for Massachusetts (where I interviewed just before Thanksgiving). I drove to Northern PA Institution Of Higher Learning (it and the town hereafter listed as Northern PA). No, I'm not going to use the real name of the place, as I don't want to jinx any job chances I have.

The trip from Maine to Albany was fairly uneventful. Albany more than made up for that. I was driving along in the far left lane to allow oncoming traffic to enter from an on-ramp. Ahead of me I saw something very odd. It looked, in silhouette, like a very large Segway. A tall stick-like shape about 6-8 feet high, coming down the on-ramp ahead of a dump truck. As my brain attempted to process this and came up blank, the front end dropped to the pavement.

And I realized this was a motorcycle. Doing a wheelie. On the highway. At speed.

The nutcase then pulled in front of me (I was going 75, so this guy with a death wish was as well).

Nutcase then decided the far left lane wasn't quite right and darted into the 8 foot space between two semis.

And then popped another wheelie while holding pace with me or going a bit faster.

When I stopped yelping "Oh shit, he's gonna die and I'm going to be seeing his entrails!" I grabbed my phone and made my first ever 911 call. Sadly there were no cops running speed traps when you need them.

The rest of the two day drive )

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