A Bridge Too Far…..
After Darlin’ Boy and I had such a lovely time on Chincoteague Island on the Eastern shore of Virginia recently, the parental units decided, since they, while well-traveled, had never been to that area either, to make a trip over. From Richmond, there are only two ways to reach the Eastern shore of Virginia by car. You can travel east and take the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel over or you can drive north to Maryland cross and drive down through the Maryland section. For some unknown reason, the folks set off this past Tuesday driving North to Maryland, evidently intending to “make a loop” and return via the bridge.
Visions of vacation mishaps from my youth were brought to the forefront of my memory once they returned and I heard about their adventure. For reasons known only to them, they failed to do two things that I don’t leave home without—a reservation and a weather report.
Since my brother and I have been out of school for many moons now, they also failed to consider that this is the first week of summer break during which teenagers and young twenty-somethings head for the beach en masse. In addition to the large numbers of youngsters flocking to the shore, our first tropical storm/hurricane of the season, Alberto, is marching up the coast and significant area rainfall is predicted.
They drove their “travel” vehicle, a mini van, and made their way north through Virginia into Maryland, stopping along the way any place that piqued their interest. They arrived at a late hour in Ocean City, Maryland. It was described to me as being “covered-up with kids” on summer break. And, where they found, of course, no vacancies in any of the hotels.
Tired but tenacious, they continued south through a number of the very small towns/communities and found no accommodations available. After some time, they happened on a place that my mama exclaimed, “had I seen it in daylight first, I never would have considered a stay there.” After a fitful night in the unacceptable accommodations, they continued south. I should note that apparently just 2 short miles further south the night before they would have happened on two very nice hotels that were fairly new looking but, by then, it was too late.
Did I mention the rain? In Richmond, it was a solid downpour that lasted all day long. On the coast it was apparently a solid downpour, with a pretty stiff wind to go with it. They did stop in Chincoteague and looked around but didn’t enjoy it in a downpour and their original plans to go out to the beach in such weather were quickly put aside.
They decided to cut their sight-seeing short and head home since the rain was not apparently going to subside anytime soon. Since their homeward bound trip was going to take them across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel, let me give you a few facts about it.
For those that have not traveled in these parts, the Bay Bridge Tunnel was designated “One of Seven Engineering Wonders of the Modern World” in 1965 after it’s completion in 1964. It is 20 miles long and consists of 12 miles of low-level tresses, 2 one-mile long tunnels, 2 bridges, 4 man-made islands and 5.5 miles of approach road. It’s four lanes and has a gift shop/restaurant located on it. Once you get on, you’re on until you get to the other end.
Well, typical for the folks, they decided they would just have to stop and check out the gift shop/restaurant on the bridge since it is an unusual feature compared to other bridges. That’s when the trip, now referred to by my dear ole Dad as “the two day trip from Hell”, really went downhill. As my Mama, who was driving, attempted to exit the roadway on to the gift shop/restaurant access lane, the steering wheel would no longer turn in either direction. She managed to avoid a collision with either the sides of the access ramp or another vehicle but they were definitely stranded. “In the middle of the creek, with no paddles,” so to speak.
This next part just kills me but it’s oh so typical of the folks. With the wind blowing mightily, the rain falling steadily and a tow truck standing by, my father proceeds to spend four hours attempting to re-fit the belt that came off the vehicle. There was another broken part too but the belt getting back on was the immediate need. The tow truck driver offered a tarp to hold over him while he tried to replace the belt but, apparently, between the wind and the four or five inches of water that he was standing in, it didn’t do much to keep him dry.
Bless his heart, my Daddy is a mechanical genius who can design, maintain and repair almost anything you can think of that has an engine. Despite his prowess, however, he does require basic tools when performing mechanical miracles—none of which he had with him at this particular time. (I can remember trips as a kid where the toolbox got packed before clothes to ensure we were prepared for any and all mechanical difficulties. And, of course, there was always some type of mechanical difficulty.)
Oddly enough, he was traveling with a spare of the other part that broke, although I’m sure I don’t know why and, as the tale was being told to me, I wasn’t about to ask. After four hours, working in the pouring rain with no tools and failing to get the belt re-fitted on the van, my Daddy accepted defeat and succumbed to being towed off the bridge and to the nearest Pep Boys. Once there, with the assistance of some borrowed tools, a new belt and the other spare part already in hand, he managed to fix the van. It took about 5 hours according to Mama who is not the most patient individual on the planet, so it could be a slight exaggeration, but Daddy prevailed in the end and got the van road-ready once more.
Bleakly, they made their way home arrived late and I did not hear of these adventures until the next afternoon. Daddy was sporting some ugly scrapes, bruising and swelling on his hands and arms from trying to complete the repair sans tools.
After all was said and done, apparently some of the locals had attempted to convince them to stay another day which turned out to be clear, bright, warm and sunny. But, no, they came home with much the same feelings as I had returning from my first visit to the Eastern shore, see previous post, Shore Shenanigans for details.
I just had to recommend to my Mama, the part-time travel agent, next time she might want to first consider making a reservation, at the very least. Tuning in to the weather channel probably wouldn’t be a bad idea either…..;)
