>”I have a son who is a longhauler and he can tell when he crosses certain state lines because of the condition of the roads.”
LOL! Thinking about it, you’re absolutely right! Back when I was stationed at Offutt AFB, NE, I would routinely drive to the St. Louis, MO area to visit my family. I could always tell the moment I had crossed over from Nebraska to Iowa because the roads suddenly were like driving on gravel. Then, I could instantly tell the moment I hit the Missouri border because the roads were nice and smooth again.
Cheers
I live in a state where the major streets and roads are in a constant state of ‘construction’ - with the purpose, evidently, of making the driving conditions worse when they finish than when they started....
I will never forget riding in a U-haul, 7 months pregnant in -10 weather, from St Louis to Minnesota where my husband’s first parish was located. When we hit Iowa I remember grabbing my mid-section and holding for dear life because it was so bumpy and it hurt so bad. It was at night and we probably stopped about 100 yards away from where a bridge was being redone; there was no way to get across because the bridge had actually been demolished. There hadn’t been any signs to warn us or to tell us to take a detour and it was just a good thing my husband thought something seemed strange. Turning around the U-haul which was pulling a car behind wasn’t fun.
To this day we still laugh about Iowa roads.
It’s sort of bittersweet laughter though because the child I was carrying at the time died, stillborn at 42 weeks for unknown reasons. We had moved our stuff to Minnesota and then stayed with my parents in northeast Nebraska to wait for the baby to be born. She was overdue and after we checked into the hospital for a non-stress test to see if the baby could withstand induction of labor the next day, she died in the middle of monitoring.
Within a week’s time I had gone to the hospital to deliver my firstborn, she had died, I had given birth, we had buried her, and we had moved to Minnesota for my husband to start the ministry. Thank God for the good people in our parish, who adopted me as if I was their own sister or daughter. They knew I was a hurting unit and loved me right through it.
Funny how so much of life is a bittersweet mixture of sadness and joy.
Anyway, we try to avoid Iowa roads if at all possible. lol