We drove home today, and it was much more arduous than the typical drive. We knew this right away when there was bumper to bumper traffic right there along I-95 at Daytona Beach. I mean, we didn't even go ten minutes and we were already in bumper to bumper traffic. The length of I-95 was like this, and then a good bit of I-10 west was the same: bumper to bumper traffic. It was clear we weren't going to set any records today. We were pretty worn out already, but found ourselves on a good stretch of road along South Georgia where everything was fine and dandy. That gave us hope.
Madison was sleeping for a bit, but she was also listening to music as well. She had her eyes closed for a good part of the journey, relaxed. Of course, her eyes opened up when we got close to Cordele, where we always stop at the Chick-Fil-A. We had our usual meal, and then this peppermint milkshake that was just delicious!
Along the journey, Mommy and Daddy were listening to Riders Radio, and some more podcasts about certain Christmas origins, like how egg nog became associated with Christmas, and where it all started. There was also an interesting one about "Miracle on 34th Street,"and another podcast about Christmas wrapping paper that we found interesting - how it started out at as an emergency fix because the tissue paper was not available. Next thing you know, everyone is wanting their presents wrapped in paper that has printed pictures and designs on it. These sorts of podcasts help the time go by quicker.
But nothing prepared us for the pathway of pain, the bit of I-75 that goes through Henry County. We've mentioned this here before, but this time, this road was showing off all its despicable nastiness. It was a banner day for I-75, and a reminder why this patch of road is easily the worst stretch of road in all of Georgia. In fact, here's a poem I wrote to celebrate this heinous highway:
Ode to Henry County
Stop by in Henry County, as if you have a choice.
Because you can't go anywhere, my friends please hear my voice!
If you're in Henry County, prepare to sit and rot.
The interstate that's sitting there is just a parking lot!
This evil stretch of road, part of I-75,
those that make it through here are grateful to be alive.
In front of you a sea of angry brake lights looks your way,
those poor souls sitting there in cars have sat there this whole day.
Imprisoned and quite tortured, they just long to be free,
and every day they drive this drive, they blame GDOT.
For that is who designed this awful misery, we guess.
I'm sure someone thought it'd be great. But it's always been a mess.
No, "mess" is not quite adequate when speaking of this route.
It's a vile and quite debilitating road of ill repute.
It's a pathway of pain, filling souls with despair!
Because they know inside their hearts, they can't go anywhere.
It's been a pit of torment there for many, many years.
My friends, a trip through Henry County only ends in tears.
So one last time, let me just use one word, and that's "BEWARE!"
When traveling this heinous highway, you are going ...nowhere.
Fortunately, we did in fact escape - eventually. And barely. We got home a lot later than expected, all due to Henry County. Consider this, Henry County: Atlanta Traffic was better. It's still a traffic jam, but at least it moves somewhat, and on top of that at least there's a reason to for people to be in Atlanta. Not so much for Henry County. Again, the only reason people stop there is because they have to. Their chief export is traffic jams.
If I sound bitter, that might be the case. I'm rather tired from the drive. But you know something? We did get home safe and sound, and did call Nana and Ba-Ba to celebrate. We had a great little trip away, despite today's horrendous highway. We said our prayers, and went to bed in our own beds once more, sleeping soundly through the night. At least... until those winds outside picked up...
Madison was sleeping for a bit, but she was also listening to music as well. She had her eyes closed for a good part of the journey, relaxed. Of course, her eyes opened up when we got close to Cordele, where we always stop at the Chick-Fil-A. We had our usual meal, and then this peppermint milkshake that was just delicious!
Along the journey, Mommy and Daddy were listening to Riders Radio, and some more podcasts about certain Christmas origins, like how egg nog became associated with Christmas, and where it all started. There was also an interesting one about "Miracle on 34th Street,"and another podcast about Christmas wrapping paper that we found interesting - how it started out at as an emergency fix because the tissue paper was not available. Next thing you know, everyone is wanting their presents wrapped in paper that has printed pictures and designs on it. These sorts of podcasts help the time go by quicker.
But nothing prepared us for the pathway of pain, the bit of I-75 that goes through Henry County. We've mentioned this here before, but this time, this road was showing off all its despicable nastiness. It was a banner day for I-75, and a reminder why this patch of road is easily the worst stretch of road in all of Georgia. In fact, here's a poem I wrote to celebrate this heinous highway:
Ode to Henry County
Stop by in Henry County, as if you have a choice.
Because you can't go anywhere, my friends please hear my voice!
If you're in Henry County, prepare to sit and rot.
The interstate that's sitting there is just a parking lot!
This evil stretch of road, part of I-75,
those that make it through here are grateful to be alive.
In front of you a sea of angry brake lights looks your way,
those poor souls sitting there in cars have sat there this whole day.
Imprisoned and quite tortured, they just long to be free,
and every day they drive this drive, they blame GDOT.
For that is who designed this awful misery, we guess.
I'm sure someone thought it'd be great. But it's always been a mess.
No, "mess" is not quite adequate when speaking of this route.
It's a vile and quite debilitating road of ill repute.
It's a pathway of pain, filling souls with despair!
Because they know inside their hearts, they can't go anywhere.
It's been a pit of torment there for many, many years.
My friends, a trip through Henry County only ends in tears.
So one last time, let me just use one word, and that's "BEWARE!"
When traveling this heinous highway, you are going ...nowhere.
Fortunately, we did in fact escape - eventually. And barely. We got home a lot later than expected, all due to Henry County. Consider this, Henry County: Atlanta Traffic was better. It's still a traffic jam, but at least it moves somewhat, and on top of that at least there's a reason to for people to be in Atlanta. Not so much for Henry County. Again, the only reason people stop there is because they have to. Their chief export is traffic jams.
If I sound bitter, that might be the case. I'm rather tired from the drive. But you know something? We did get home safe and sound, and did call Nana and Ba-Ba to celebrate. We had a great little trip away, despite today's horrendous highway. We said our prayers, and went to bed in our own beds once more, sleeping soundly through the night. At least... until those winds outside picked up...
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment