I guess it wasn’t the worst trip ever. The Tornado Trip still gets to keep that title.

I’d rank this trip up there somewhere in oh, I dunno, about the top 50 maybe?

It was crappy drive and it was a crappy day. And I do mean CRAPPY. There was rodent crap in my plastic food storage container drawer. There was rodent crap in my DISHTOWEL drawer. There was rodent crap in my SILVERWARE drawer. It was on the stove and behind the microwave. And in the dungeon. ALL OVER THE DUNGEON. Did I mention the spiders? No? Want me to skip over that part? I know The Commander does. Okay, I will.

Driving? We took the Lansing route. Why did we take the Lansing route? Because the Lansing route is USUALLY a little easier. There may or may not be less traffic but whatever traffic there is, is USUALLY less aggressive. We thought that since it was Friday night, the evening before the first day of rifle deer season no less, that it would be crazy to drive up the I75 SUV Speedway. We figgered that all the rifle totin’, SUV drivin’, SE MI redneck hunters would be out in full force.* Lansing route? Yes!

Or not. A nightmare of vee-hickles switching lanes left and right, refusing to move over for merging traffic, PASSING ON THE RIGHT WHEN THE RIGHT LANE IS ABOUT TO END, FER KEE-REIST!!! All in a driving rain as twilight was falling. And then. We got to Lansing. We turned north and merged onto US127. One more huge snarl of interchanges to navigate and we’d be home free heading north on a nice straight relatively quiet road. No tornadoes. No ice or snow. What’s a little rain? Nuthin’.

Except that I had just barely merged onto 127 when four or five lanes (or whatever it is) of brake lights lit up ahead of us and somebody was yelling at me that I was in the wrong gear but I wasn’t in *any* gear right at that nanosecond because I had my foot on the clutch and was madly trying to calculate which gear I *should* be in and, in the end, it turned out to be neutral with my foot on the brake, right next to the Jolly Road exit. I said, “we should get off on the Jolly Road exit. It’s right there.” I was met with dissent. We sat. And we sat. A cop car with its lights flashing went over the Jolly Road exit overpass, then made its way across the freeway and down the left shoulder, stopping about a half mile ahead. We sat. And we sat. An ambulance with its lights flashing went over the Jolly Road exit overpass, and, well you know the rest of that. It did what the cop car did. And we sat. I said. I am gonna sit here for five more minutes and if we don’t move, I am getting off on the Jolly Road exit. And so we did. And wound our way through a gauntlet of stoplights down Harrison to Trowbridge, where we were able to get back onto an EMPTY freeway.

The rest of the trip continued without incident. We only encountered one deer in the middle of the road and we didn’t hit it. And I do not think I want to know what happened back there on the freeway in Lansing. With the way people were driving today, it’s a wonder anyone ever gets anywhere in one piece. Kiddos, PLEASE BE CAREFUL!

Kayak Woman
inonepiece@Houghton Lake

* I’m stereotyping, you guys. I mean about the red necks and all. I KNOW that hunters are not all rifle totin’, SUV drivin’, SE MI rednecks. So don’t flame me.

One Response to “I guess it wasn’t the worst trip ever. The Tornado Trip still gets to keep that title.”

  1. Dog Mom Says:

    Believe it or not, my Dad chose to move to Michigan in part *because* of the deer hunting… but after working the ER during deer-hunting season, he wound up never doing it. Too many car accidents. Too many gun accidents. Too many drunken-fool hunters causing themselves drunken-fool injuries. Cardiac arrests in out-of-shape hunters doing their one-time-per-year physical exertion attempting to haul a deer carcass around…

    you get the picture…