Lost in the Flood
In the future, when bad weather is forecast, and you are bombarded with news flashes to ‘stay off the road’ or ‘emergency vehicles only’, but you think, ‘it’s not too bad, I can go out’ do me a favor: don’t.
A few weeks ago we had a downpour over night, but by early afternoon, nothing but blue skies. With that, met a friend for a walk in the park, then she and I went to get coffee and something to eat at a local diner.
That’s when I learned that blue skies doesn’t always mean smooth sailing.
Just as our coffees and muffins arrived at our table, a customer came in to pick up an order, then added, “Please hurry up, Route 206 is closed and it’s a parking lot.”
My friend turned to me, a worried look in her eyes, because that was her way home.
A few back and forth between us, other customers, and the manager we figured a route home for her. Left the diner, took some odd turns that seemed to be counter intuitive for her to get home, but get home she did.
Said our goodbyes, then it was my turn to find my way home.
Turns out, it wasn’t going to be easy.
I took some back roads to bypass another highway that was bumper-to-bumper, and popped back out just two lights from home.
Clever me.
My heart dropped when I saw the road straight back to my house was closed. Not deterred, I knew another way, a long way, but a way to get home.
Headed away from the closed road, with the intention of getting to the town of Flemington, then a left up Church Street to Amwell Road, and straight back to Hillsborough (were I lived). But, about halfway there, I had another idea.
There was a road that also cut up toward Amwell, and was about half the distance than the one in Flemington, so I made a left straight into hell.
Wasn’t familiar with the area, but drove it a few times in the past. What I wasn’t expecting, in the dark, and with dozens of side roads closed, I would be stuck in a loop. I drove passed the firehouse and a local bar six or seven times. Just when I thought I found an exit, I’d see the reflection of my headlights in the water that covered the street.
Pass the firehouse, pass the bar, lather, rinse, repeat.
At one point in the loop, my friend from the park and diner called to see how I was. She was at one of her friend’s house, on speaker, and I could hear the other woman in the background. I explained my situation, like a mice in a maze trying to find the cheese. That’s when I heard the other woman say to my friend, ‘maybe if you can get him back here to my house, that would help’.
I only met this other woman two or three times, and I thought if was a very generous offer for a man she barely knew.
But at this point, if I could get off this hamster wheel, I was going home.
Miraculously, I eventually found the main highway, and headed back to Flemington, and my original plan. The only draw back was not knowing if Amwell Road was open. If it wasn’t, I was back to square one.
My friend was giving me real time updates, as to which roads were closed, and which roads where now open. Suddenly, she’s Charlton Heston and I’m Karen Black, trying to navigate a Jumbo jet through a flood (‘Airport 1975’ reference for those who have not seen the movie – you’re welcome).
It was her next idea that turned out to be my saving grace.
“Do you have any of your neighbor’s phone numbers?” she asked, “You can call them and see if the road is open.”
Great idea, with only one drawback: I knew some of my neighbors well enough to say hello, or help them shovel out their cars after a snow storm, but didn’t know anyone’s phone number.
Then I had my own flash of genius.
“Call ‘The Bottle King’ (local liquor store)” I said will real excitement in my voice, “look up the number, give them a call, and ask if Amwell Road is open.”
She did, and called back a few minutes later. Spoke to someone at the store and they believed the road was now open.
Turns out, I did have a friend’s number in the neighborhood.
It’s a long ride when around each curve in the road you expect to see a police barrier telling you to turn around and go another way.
But, this time, after three hours of what should have been a twenty minute ride, I pulled my car into my parking spot.
I was home.
