The drive from hell
Dec. 29th, 2017 05:50 amI seldom use my Dreamwidth anymore except as a mirror for Home For A Day. But a certain someone has
been saying how much they miss my more journal-like entries, so here's one.
This is going to be brief, because as you can see from the dateline, it's well
past 5am, and I haven't slept yet.
Husband and I were on our way back from Christmas vacation in Chesterfield, Virginia. We were about an hour out when traffic on the I-95N slowed, then slowed some more, then slowed still more, and finally ground to a complete halt. For over an hour. By "complete halt", I mean you could have turned your car off if you wanted. I was the first one I noticed whose bladder gave way; judging by the occasional person getting out of their car and toddling into the woods, I was not the last.
During all this police cars were going by down both shoulders in a tearing hurry. After we'd seen maybe twenty of them, we then started to see the fire trucks and ambulances go by too. And then a police helicopter circling a ways down the highway. By the end Mike estimated over 30 police cars. After an hour and some, state troopers came back and helped us all get turned around and go back down the (normally one-way) highway, then across to I-95S, whence we exited and got onto the Jefferson Davis Highway, which was now carrying much more than its carrying capacity of cars, and thus moving at a ridiculous crawl.
Lets cut this short and say that we left Chesterfield around 10am and got to Ottawa around 4am.
As for what on earth happened, we only got the story in dribs and drabs--a bit from ilanikhan by cell phone, a bit more from a waitress in a restaurant along Jefferson Davis. The full story had to wait until we got home and I checked the news online. Here it is.
ETA: I would like to say that the state trooper who helped us and nearby cars get turned around was awesome. And cute as a button. I know "cute" and "state police" are not words that normally go together, but really, she was. An irrepressible bundle of good cheer who single-handedly improved my mood. "Everyone ready to get turned around? Lets get turned around!" Someone else must have commented on how cheery she was considering, since I then heard her say, "I'm getting paid for this, you aren't."
Followed by--I think she repeated this part twice--"I just hate the 95."
Husband and I were on our way back from Christmas vacation in Chesterfield, Virginia. We were about an hour out when traffic on the I-95N slowed, then slowed some more, then slowed still more, and finally ground to a complete halt. For over an hour. By "complete halt", I mean you could have turned your car off if you wanted. I was the first one I noticed whose bladder gave way; judging by the occasional person getting out of their car and toddling into the woods, I was not the last.
During all this police cars were going by down both shoulders in a tearing hurry. After we'd seen maybe twenty of them, we then started to see the fire trucks and ambulances go by too. And then a police helicopter circling a ways down the highway. By the end Mike estimated over 30 police cars. After an hour and some, state troopers came back and helped us all get turned around and go back down the (normally one-way) highway, then across to I-95S, whence we exited and got onto the Jefferson Davis Highway, which was now carrying much more than its carrying capacity of cars, and thus moving at a ridiculous crawl.
Lets cut this short and say that we left Chesterfield around 10am and got to Ottawa around 4am.
As for what on earth happened, we only got the story in dribs and drabs--a bit from ilanikhan by cell phone, a bit more from a waitress in a restaurant along Jefferson Davis. The full story had to wait until we got home and I checked the news online. Here it is.
ETA: I would like to say that the state trooper who helped us and nearby cars get turned around was awesome. And cute as a button. I know "cute" and "state police" are not words that normally go together, but really, she was. An irrepressible bundle of good cheer who single-handedly improved my mood. "Everyone ready to get turned around? Lets get turned around!" Someone else must have commented on how cheery she was considering, since I then heard her say, "I'm getting paid for this, you aren't."
Followed by--I think she repeated this part twice--"I just hate the 95."

