end_of_suburbia (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} end_of_suburbia) wrote,@ 2006-10-18 00:36:00 |
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Clusterf*ck on I-90
By now, no doubt, you've, heard that Buffalo, New York was under
two feet of snow over the weekend. Unfortunately, I hadn't heard
about this when I left Ontario for a trip to Massachusetts early on
Friday morning. When my friend Greg and I passed through US customs
20 miles north of the city, we declared that we were on our way to
Boston. The officer in the booth laughed at us. How could we have
known what was ahead of us? The sun was just about to be revealed,
and there wasn't a flake of snow in sight. Ten minutes later we
crossed the Niagara River into a Currier & Ives painting from
Hell. Trees bent to the ground in submission under the snow that
clung to their leaves. Hydro and cable lines stretched to within a
few feet of the streets. One driver in front of us spent most of his
time moving diagonally as we crawled through the grayness toward
Interstate-90, the highway that would take us east of the city. We
assumed that once we reached I-90, things would get better.
We were wrong.
The toll operator at the Interstate told us that we would be
getting off just up the road at Exit 49. There was one lane
available, packed with snow about three inches thick. Just as the sun
came out, traffic ahead of us rolled to a stop. We could see cars
ahead of us waiting on the off-ramp at Exit 49. We assumed that there
was some snow removal going on at the intersection, so we waited
patiently for the way to be cleared. I built a snowman along the side
of the highway. After 20 minutes or so, Greg mentioned once again
that he had seen some vehicles going past the exit and making their
way up the Interstate around the time we had stopped. This time I
paid attention to him. I couldn't see any kind of roadblock, so I
walked back to one of the trucks behind us and asked the driver if
the highway was open up ahead.
"Yup," he said.
"So we're just waiting for these people to get out of the way?" I asked.
"Uh, huh."
I rolled my eyes and sighed for maximum effect. Then I went ahead
and asked about three drivers if they could slide over to let the big
trucks through. We jumped back in the car and we were off.
Now, it must have been an interesting sight: an eight-foot-long
Smart car leading a convoy of 18-wheelers through the snow at about
15 miles an hour. It was slow going, but at least we were moving
forward. After a few miles we could see traffic stopped in the
opposing westbound lanes. There had been some kind of accident, and
things were pretty backed up. We were expressing relief that it
wasn't happening on our side when it occurred to me that there was
two feet of snow between all of the vehicles. They couldn't move.
"Holy crap, they've been there all night!"
People were asleep in their cars. Truck drivers had abandoned
their front seats in favor of their sleepers. Here and there,
restless drivers with nothing else to do helped to push each otherout
of the snow, but found themselves with nowhere to go once they were
free. With their engines running for hours to keep them warm, some
had run out of gas. One man used a wooden box to clear a trail from
the westbound lanes to our side of the Interstate, seemingly
oblivious to the three-foot-deep ditch that separated us. Still, I
was impressed by his ambition. I stopped briefly and handed him a
bottle of juice and an apple from my cooler, and he mentioned
something about having to get his wife out of there. Another couple
was walking in our lane on their way to the service center several
miles ahead. They said that everyone had been tied up there since
three in the morning.
The trail of vehicles went on for about twelve miles. I suspect
that some people were stranded there most of the day. It was a very
instructive lesson about what can happen when complicated systems are
brought to their knees at the whims of nature, and how important it
is to be prepared for that eventuality. Sooner or later, you are
going to be affected by an ice storm, tornado, blackout, flood,
hurricane, or earth-quake, or any combination thereof. The complex
systems that usually bring us comfort don't serve us very well when
they breakdown, and in some cases may even threaten our well-being.
There's nothing wrong with having a few days supply of food, a
120-volt backup battery system, and a woodstove in the basement.
If Hurricane Katrina taught us anything, it's that we're all on
the roof now, the waters are rising, and the helicopters are not
coming.
Barry
By now, no doubt, you've, heard that Buffalo, New York was under
two feet of snow over the weekend. Unfortunately, I hadn't heard
about this when I left Ontario for a trip to Massachusetts early on
Friday morning. When my friend Greg and I passed through US customs
20 miles north of the city, we declared that we were on our way to
Boston. The officer in the booth laughed at us. How could we have
known what was ahead of us? The sun was just about to be revealed,
and there wasn't a flake of snow in sight. Ten minutes later we
crossed the Niagara River into a Currier & Ives painting from
Hell. Trees bent to the ground in submission under the snow that
clung to their leaves. Hydro and cable lines stretched to within a
few feet of the streets. One driver in front of us spent most of his
time moving diagonally as we crawled through the grayness toward
Interstate-90, the highway that would take us east of the city. We
assumed that once we reached I-90, things would get better.
We were wrong.
The toll operator at the Interstate told us that we would be
getting off just up the road at Exit 49. There was one lane
available, packed with snow about three inches thick. Just as the sun
came out, traffic ahead of us rolled to a stop. We could see cars
ahead of us waiting on the off-ramp at Exit 49. We assumed that there
was some snow removal going on at the intersection, so we waited
patiently for the way to be cleared. I built a snowman along the side
of the highway. After 20 minutes or so, Greg mentioned once again
that he had seen some vehicles going past the exit and making their
way up the Interstate around the time we had stopped. This time I
paid attention to him. I couldn't see any kind of roadblock, so I
walked back to one of the trucks behind us and asked the driver if
the highway was open up ahead.
"Yup," he said.
"So we're just waiting for these people to get out of the way?" I asked.
"Uh, huh."
I rolled my eyes and sighed for maximum effect. Then I went ahead
and asked about three drivers if they could slide over to let the big
trucks through. We jumped back in the car and we were off.
Now, it must have been an interesting sight: an eight-foot-long
Smart car leading a convoy of 18-wheelers through the snow at about
15 miles an hour. It was slow going, but at least we were moving
forward. After a few miles we could see traffic stopped in the
opposing westbound lanes. There had been some kind of accident, and
things were pretty backed up. We were expressing relief that it
wasn't happening on our side when it occurred to me that there was
two feet of snow between all of the vehicles. They couldn't move.
"Holy crap, they've been there all night!"
People were asleep in their cars. Truck drivers had abandoned
their front seats in favor of their sleepers. Here and there,
restless drivers with nothing else to do helped to push each otherout
of the snow, but found themselves with nowhere to go once they were
free. With their engines running for hours to keep them warm, some
had run out of gas. One man used a wooden box to clear a trail from
the westbound lanes to our side of the Interstate, seemingly
oblivious to the three-foot-deep ditch that separated us. Still, I
was impressed by his ambition. I stopped briefly and handed him a
bottle of juice and an apple from my cooler, and he mentioned
something about having to get his wife out of there. Another couple
was walking in our lane on their way to the service center several
miles ahead. They said that everyone had been tied up there since
three in the morning.
The trail of vehicles went on for about twelve miles. I suspect
that some people were stranded there most of the day. It was a very
instructive lesson about what can happen when complicated systems are
brought to their knees at the whims of nature, and how important it
is to be prepared for that eventuality. Sooner or later, you are
going to be affected by an ice storm, tornado, blackout, flood,
hurricane, or earth-quake, or any combination thereof. The complex
systems that usually bring us comfort don't serve us very well when
they breakdown, and in some cases may even threaten our well-being.
There's nothing wrong with having a few days supply of food, a
120-volt backup battery system, and a woodstove in the basement.
If Hurricane Katrina taught us anything, it's that we're all on
the roof now, the waters are rising, and the helicopters are not
coming.
Barry
