We laughed and cut up all the way to Washington. Betty saw some “speed enforced by aircraft” signs and we laughed about airplanes swooping down and picking up cars that were speeding. Yes, we got pretty ridiculous, but we didn’t care.
We checked into our hotel in Alexandria and then drove into Washington to get a glimpse of the cherry blossoms before dark. Little did we know that the best view we would get all weekend would be from the bridge, where we stayed for a while, stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. This gave me time to develop a strategy. I would make left turns after I got off the bridge until I got down to the cherry trees on the shoreline. Wrong. We saw tourists, strollers, demonstrators, dogs, joggers, tour busses, and traffic lights. We also saw some beautiful architecture as nightfall approached. Susan took five hundred photographs. But none of cherry blossoms.
Night was falling, so I put my energies on finding Interstate 395 - and getting back to the hotel – while Susan took pictures and George and Betty enjoyed the scenery. We passed the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, and a couple of cherry trees (Susan photographed them) but no signs for I-395. There was the Jefferson Memorial. We could see the Pentagon. But not I-395.
I realized there wasn’t much traffic around us. I was headed somewhere, but it wasn’t to I-395. I tried to turn around but there was no way to do that. My passengers had not noticed. Susan was still taking pictures of the Pentagon. Certainly there would be a dead end and a turn-around opportunity at a monument or something.
I passed a “Do Not Enter” sign. A median on each side prevented any sort of U-turn or Y-turn. I rounded a curve and got a real good – too good - view of the Pentagon. Oops. Now I was creeping at a snail’s pace, wishing one of those airplanes Betty talked about would swoop down and pick us up off this road and fly us to safety. I steered us around another curve and a structure that looked like a toll booth appeared. So did an armed guard.
He motioned us through the toll booth, where four large cameras flashed, two in front of us and two behind us. The guard approached and I said, “How do I get to 395?” I can’t describe his expression.
We got out of there without an incident, which was fortunate considering the fact that Susan had been hanging out the window photographing the Pentagon. She didn’t even know it had photographed her!
We checked into our hotel in Alexandria and then drove into Washington to get a glimpse of the cherry blossoms before dark. Little did we know that the best view we would get all weekend would be from the bridge, where we stayed for a while, stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. This gave me time to develop a strategy. I would make left turns after I got off the bridge until I got down to the cherry trees on the shoreline. Wrong. We saw tourists, strollers, demonstrators, dogs, joggers, tour busses, and traffic lights. We also saw some beautiful architecture as nightfall approached. Susan took five hundred photographs. But none of cherry blossoms.
Night was falling, so I put my energies on finding Interstate 395 - and getting back to the hotel – while Susan took pictures and George and Betty enjoyed the scenery. We passed the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, and a couple of cherry trees (Susan photographed them) but no signs for I-395. There was the Jefferson Memorial. We could see the Pentagon. But not I-395.
I realized there wasn’t much traffic around us. I was headed somewhere, but it wasn’t to I-395. I tried to turn around but there was no way to do that. My passengers had not noticed. Susan was still taking pictures of the Pentagon. Certainly there would be a dead end and a turn-around opportunity at a monument or something.
I passed a “Do Not Enter” sign. A median on each side prevented any sort of U-turn or Y-turn. I rounded a curve and got a real good – too good - view of the Pentagon. Oops. Now I was creeping at a snail’s pace, wishing one of those airplanes Betty talked about would swoop down and pick us up off this road and fly us to safety. I steered us around another curve and a structure that looked like a toll booth appeared. So did an armed guard.
He motioned us through the toll booth, where four large cameras flashed, two in front of us and two behind us. The guard approached and I said, “How do I get to 395?” I can’t describe his expression.
We got out of there without an incident, which was fortunate considering the fact that Susan had been hanging out the window photographing the Pentagon. She didn’t even know it had photographed her!
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