Let’s be honest and state the obvious driving in the “Cold-as-ice” Seattle is arduous. And commuting to and from it is frustrating to boot. We all have at least one harrowing tale of traffic to share with Spaceship Earth.
The following tale resonates so much with me that I post it every anniversary of the date as I call it, “Cold-As-Ice”.
On November 27th, 2006, a sudden ice storm paralyzed the greater area for only one night. Here is a detailed account of my night’s journey from Costco Travel in Issaquah to my home in Bothell, and the 26 miles that separate those two places…
At 4:30 pm, I leave work to start my commute home. Since it had rained and/or snowed earlier I knew my traffic would be delayed. I just didn’t realize what the Gods of Lunacy had in store for me…
It’s 6:30 pm, two hours into my usual 1 ½ hour commute, and I was only near 160th St SW on I-405 North Bound. I’ve been sitting here for 15 minutes with no movement. I’m gonna call the ball and bail off the freeway to brave the surface streets to get home. Now to fully appreciate the situation, you must know that accessing Bothell from the Woodinville is like connecting via Hong Kong on a Seattle-Los Angeles flight. It’s now dark, cold and starting to freeze the water on the roadway.
I start to make my way east up the 160th hill. The tires spinning, rear end at a 45 degree angle and 20,000 miles less on my tires, I make it. I turn to left to go down the hill street. The nose of the car came over the crest like the start of a roller coaster and I’m sliding. The street is a sheet o’ ice. I try to stop. The car plows into a small snow bank on the right with the tires.
A sigh of relief! Alright, this is ridiculous. I manage to turn this tank around on a inclined skating rink. And no, don’t ask me how I did it. I have a new plan. Go back to the damn freeway.
7:34 pm is on my car radio clock. I’m 6th car in line, I might just make it… HM, hold on. Department of Transportation (DOT) & Washington State Patrol (WSP) have closed the ramp as I see officers and uniformed crew waving at the drivers – probably too dangerous. AWESOME! Now they are turning around the cars to get them off the ramp. LOVELY. Never mind. Yet another route. I’ll travel down 160th to 100th to Lake City way to Hwy 527 to home! Got to Lake City Way easy enough. I wonder why?
8:05 pm and I’m still stuck on Lake City Way. I’m almost four hours into this journey. My wife calls my cellphone to ask where am I? Well, I’m mere car lengths to joining the pile of cars turning left onto Highway 527.
She suggests a different route. She asks, “Do you see the Highway 523 sign to head into Woodinville?” ”Yep,” almost 4 hours in I’m damn near delirious. She says, “Go there. Circumvent this mess and hop on 405. You should be north enough.” I motor along the route only to discover that WSP closed off both directions of the I-405 ramps at the interchange.
GGRRR!! I have NO choice. I must go on to Woodinville, then I’ll cut over to Highway 527 on the Beardslee Boulevard freeway entrance. YES!
9:33 pm. My wife calls to inform me while waiting that I-405 has just been closed. Oh my goodness! *insert a Denis Leary tirade here* Luckily I’m literally at the driveway of a Residence Inn. Maybe they have rooms for the night. It seems dumb but perhaps I should sleep this off… The clerk barks at me as I walk through the door, “NO vacancy! Don’t try Springhill Suites either, full.”
I mumble under my breath, “You’re full of..” I clamor back in the car. Well, now I’m left to the back roads!! I’ll heroically navigate the narrow, dark, icy roads to 228th and get to Highway 527 and to home. Five hours in, I’ve decided to make this a personal damn vendetta. I’m getting home tonight!
9:45 pm on my car radio clock. My friend, Sidney, calls me. HM, that’s odd. I didn’t that lady cared. My wife is genuinely concerned about my safety from the tone in her voice on the phone that’s now charging because the battery is drained. They should be worried about my sanity!
I’m on the threshold of hell. I’m beyond tired, hungry and frustrated. The reports on the radio of closed highways is longer than the ones open. I get out of my car to survey my situation. You know, I could park the car and simply walk the 10 miles home. It’ll be the scene in Empire Strikes Back on the planet Hoth.
My wife calls to inform me that I have a room at the Willows Lodge in Woodinville for tonight. She almost pleads with me to return to the car and drive there. I can walk this! I’ll abandoned the car as others did. However, cooler heads prevail, and I climb into the car.
It’s 10:15 pm, as I claw my way BACK the way I came from to Woodinville (haven’t I seen this hill before?) By the grace of God, and my Mom’s heavenly help guiding me in, and some mad skills behind the wheel if I do say so myself, I get to Highway 202. Almost there.
10:45 pm and I arrive at Willows Lodge. Colton and Antoinette have my room keys ready. I call the wife to say I’m safe. Not sound, but safe and off the road. I need food so I ask Colton for restaurant or a to-go. They actually smile, and “No problem”. They offer a couple Chicken Margarita sandwiches because they were gonna toss them nightly anyways. Nice, thanks! And they include a FREE bottle of 2004 Cab-Sauvignon. Perfect.
I drag myself to the room. Quick note: at the end of Die Hard I & II, during the credits “Let It Snow” plays. I bust open the door to the room, and Let It Snow is playing. I find it funny in that Isn’t-It-Ironic type of way. What time is it, you ask? 11:01 pm, 6.5 hours after I started. At least it’s the honeymoon suite, complete with a deep-soaking tub and bubble bath. Gonna rock that now.
The next morning comes sooner than later. 10:10 am, and now I’m on the verge of heading out, and getting HOME!! H-O-M-E, should be me. I blaze outta of the hotel with a wing and a prayer. The road conditions are great; bare and wet. Cars literally both sides of the roadway.
I pop through Woodinville again and make it to 522. So I’ll travel along Highway 522 to I-405 and exit 26. Ah, yes, the Golden Arches of McDonald’s saves my ass yet again. I buy lunch the wife and myself.
11:00 am – Chains. I’m buying some damn chains now that I can. Les Schwab has oodles of them yet only one set left for my tires P205 / 55R16.
11:50 am, and I’m still struggling to test fit my newly purchased chains. Are you kidding me? Ron, the technician, politely and generously shows me how to put them on. Apparently the last step wasn’t necessary and I could have easily been home by now.
12:26 pm. I finally park in my driveway with chains on. I am triumphant! Alive, not injured, with car (no damage) after 20 hours but home at last. Home, sweet, home. The wife smiles from the top of the stairs. “You’re home!” Yes. Yes, indeed.
There you have it. I have other tales of woe in traffic but nothing quite like that. What’s your story? I’d love to read it.
Until next week, be good like you should, and if you can’t be good, be good at what you do!
Mic drop; bOoM
‘los
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