Trip to Jersey means driving in Jersey

I know, when most people think of exotic locales for quick weekend getaways, the first place on their minds is New Jersey. Or as I like to call it, New York's Overflow Parking Lot. Actually, Erin's folks live in south Jersey, so the natives we encountered had a more distinctive Philly mid-Atlantic accent. Either way, the bird-flipping to car honking ratio is about the same.

Our premise for the trip was the crab feast held by Erin's surrogate uncle, Bill in the Philly suburbs near Villanova. Every year family and friends don mallets, crackers, bibs, eye goggles and other assorted crab paraphernalia for mirth, merriment and beer sodden good times in Bill's backyard. I must say, this year's feast was as fun as the ones I've been to in the past. The sun was shining, a slight breeze was blowing and juice from a couple hundred Maryland blues was flying everywhere. I think Erin even had some in her hair. Ahhh, good times.


Despite the enjoyment of the feast, the trip started off on a bad foot. Our flight to philly was (once again) canceled on Friday night. (That's two out of the last two trips, USAirways!!! You'll be getting a strongly worded e-mail from me. So take that!) After leaving work a bit early and boarding the dogs and taking care of other pre-trip preparations, we arrived at the airport the usual hour or so before the flight. Passed through security, etc. Only to be notified at the last minute that the flight was canceled and no others were leaving that night. So we were put up in the airport hotel (not 20 minutes from our own house) where we waited like stir-crazy rats until we were woken at 4:00am by an automated phone call that informed us our 6:10am flight was delayed an hour and a half. Needless to say, we didn't arrive in Philly until around 11:00am. The crab feast was at 3:00 so from the minute we touched down, the whirlwind began.

After the crab feast, we briefly visited with a couple friends who have a 10 month old boy and a new (old) house. They live so close to Bill that visiting them was a no-brainer. And a welcome break from the chaotic-ness of the earlier parts of the day. We finally drove back to south Jersey with Erin's folks later in the evening. Such a beautiful night that we decided to take the scenic route through Philly. Down W River Dr, past Boathouse Row, behind the museum, on Ben Franklin Pkwy and through China town to the Ben Franklin bridge (being the day after opening ceremonies of the Beijing Olympics, Chinatown was SLAMMING). Going over the bridge to Philly, we were entertained by an impressive fireworks display put on by the minor league Camden RiverSharks at their new waterfront stadium. All in all, definitely one of those nights that makes me miss Philly. Until I remember that with Philly and Jersey come what can be affectionately termed "The Worst Drivers Anywhere."

Our whirlwind 36 hour Jersey adventure continued Sunday morning as we drove Erin and her mother to a baby shower in Red Bank (made famous by the movie Clerks), a shore town not too far from Staten Island. Basically, we had to traverse most of the State of New Jersey's exceptional highway system to get there. Surprisingly, traffic was fairly light and obedient and we only had to survive about 6 near death experiences. In Red Bank I made a wrong turn or two and learned that the New Jersey road engineers have poor understanding of the term "U-Turn." Apparently, you CANNOT turn left from a two lane road in New Jersey. At all. You have to go right to the "U-Turn" lane, from where you actually make a big right-hand cloverleaf turn. So, after a few miles of befuddlement I completed what should more appropriately be called a P-turn. Why label it with big "U-Turn" signs?

Anyway, after dropping off the girls, Erin's father and I explored half a block of Red Bank until we found the nearest bar, where we sat watching Chinese women's beach volleyball until the call came to pick up the ladies. And thus our trip to Red Bank was over. But the commute back home had only just begun. After one more minor wrong turn (I was now a pro with the accursed "P-Turn"), we found ourselves on the Garden State Parkway to points south and west. From the Parkway, we caught I-195 to connect to the NJ Turnpike. At the junction, traffic was really bad. Let's call it CONGESTED even. To my bewilderment, there was a sign posted on the 195 off-ramp that said (and I shit you not): "CARS ONLY; During congestion, driving on the shoulder is permitted." I actually had to do a triple-take (seriously, there were three signs that made this declaration) before believing the legality of this absurdity. Now to me, the shoulder, aka the breakdown lane, of an off-ramp during peak travel times is not necessarily the best place for angry Jersey drivers to be jockeying for position. But, being neither angry nor from Jersey, I didn't see a problem. Until the passenger door of some large SUV nearly kissed my driver's side mirror. And another SUV nearly ran me off the shoulder into the ditch (thus the reason for a buffer lane). And the highway planners, while allowing drivers to cruise the shoulder at highway speeds, failed to make allowances for actually merging onto the upcoming highway at the end of the ramp. Thus, our 3rd near death experience in less than 0.5 miles. Seriously, driving in Jersey makes me long for Florida drivers, where all we have to deal with are the blind elderly.

In pregnancy related news, Erin's belly is becoming quite prominent. This was the first time her folks have seen her since her girth has increased. To make for better pictures, she wore a lovely belly-enhancing dress.