One week ago, I drive home from Hampton Roads, Virginia.
Today, I rode my bicycle to school.
What's the connection? Here goes...
I was coming into the Chesapeake tunnel. I had just passed a "Lancaster Food Supply" truck, as I zipped along the bridge in my well-laden '89 Plymouth Horizon hatchback (good gas mileage, low emissions. Good price). The Chesapeake tunnel is unlike any other tunnel I've been through. Going into New York City, the imposing facades stick out, and entering the tunnel feels very much like entering one of the tunnels on the PA Turnpike, the ones that bore through the Appalachian Mountains.
Instead of driving into the side of the tunnel, one's car descends into a hole in the ground. One moment, you can look out over the side of the bridge at the shining bay, and the next moment, the bottom falls out of your vehicle, and you find yourself on an incline.
If you're me, on Thursday, March 4, you also find that the traffic inside the tunnel has come to a stop.
I was able to stop my car in time, but the guy behind me didn't. So now my rear bumper is frowning to the right a bit. I'm not exactly smiling about it either, but at least it got me back on my bike.