I’ve never seen anything like it in Seattle. Is there anything you can’t do, internet?) I found out we had experienced a “ rolling roadblock.” It’s a method used to intentionally slow traffic (rather than stop it altogether) in order to do necessary roadside repairs, remove debris, or allow police-escorted vehicles onto the freeway. Later, thanks to the all-knowing internet (seriously, it provides me cookie recipes, shoes, and answers all my questions. Rand and I exchanged a quick, “What the hell was that?” look, before he accelerated, and we finished our trek to Los Angeles. Just as I began feeling claustrophobic, the police officers sped up, and we were able to resume our normal speeds. McDonald's product-placement unintentional.Īfter a few minutes of keeping a painfully slow pace, traffic became more and more congested. As soon as we slowed down, the weaving stopped, and another cop joined him, keeping all the vehicles at a slow pace of about 30 mph (occasionally, a car would try and creep up, and the officer would dart directly in front of that vehicle, holding him back). His zig-zags were sharp, and then slowly grew wider and wider until they spread across nearly all lanes of traffic, which consequently had to slow down to his pace. But a few car lengths ahead of us, he slowed down, and started, well, weaving.įor a brief moment, I thought he had lost his mind. Must be some sort of emergency, we gathered. Rand kind of started – he literally came out of nowhere, and seemed to be going in upwards of 90 miles an hour. We left fairly early in the day, and did a pretty good job of avoiding gridlock.Īnd then, to turn a phrase an acquaintance of mine used after ingesting too much of an illegal substance, shit got weird.Ī cop on a motorcycle zoomed passed us, driving on the center line between lanes. from San Diego a few weeks ago – he had some work to do there, and I wanted to visit some folks (including my brother, who you may remember from such blog posts as “ Shit My Brother Says” and “My Brothers Weigh in on the Full-Body Scanners”, as well as such traumatic events as MY ENTIRE CHILDHOOD). Especially if Minnesotans can gloat about balls of twine) I have to say – the kids in L.A.? They beat us when it comes to traffic. But, hometown pride aside (and yes, I can be prideful of my city’s traffic.
I’ve nearly cried in frustration at our city’s gridlock, pressing my head against the steering wheel in the middle of a parking lot that was once a moving road.Īnd one time, I heard the traffic reporter on the radio describe our city’s congested areas as “epicenters of disaster.” When your traffic is so bad that it inspires that kind of poetry, you know your city has something singular going on. It’s taken me 25 minutes to move 25 feet before (east side, rush hour). I’d like to think that, as a Seattleite (Seattlite? Does it matter?) I know a thing or three about traffic.
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