Watch for Secluded Grassy Areas
I’ve heard that when the city of Washington D.C. was first designed, the layout was based on powerful Masonic symbols, which made traveling efficient and logical. Looking at it now, however, it seems to have been designed on an etch-a-sketch, by someone who has had 3 or 4 too many Red Bulls. Roads and neighborhoods have been randomly (or ‘malevolently’) tacked on to the original design and the entire town seems to be in a perpetual state of construction. Apparently the modern designers, thinking outside the box, disregarded the idea that if you have a one-way street, then the next one-way street should go in the opposite direction. Also, they did not seem to want to conform to the idea that a street like, ‘North Johnson Street’ should have to connect in any way with ‘South Johnson Street.’ In addition, there are plenty of detours and unmarked roads to further confuse the issue. You might as well be driving blindfolded. Apparently everyone else is, and it doesn’t make any difference for navigating. It’s no wonder why D.C. is so populated...no one can get out.
Everyone knows that driving in D.C. is a nightmare. This is why, on a recent family trip to the National Zoo, I knew that the directions you take to get there are not the reverse of the directions to get home. So I thought I had planned accordingly, when I printed out two separate sets of directions (one for the trip there, one for the trip home,) in a feeble attempt to thwart Ring Luck.
After our action-packed day at the zoo (which you can read about in a previous post,) we had decided to make our way home. We were all worn out from from a fun day, still somewhat damp from all the rain, and hungry, which we planned to remedy as soon as we got home. Little did we know that this would take slightly longer than planned. By ‘slightly,’ of course, I mean seven hours.
As it turns out, there are many exits from the zoo. As it also turns out, the directions I had to get us home led from a different exit. For some reason we figured we could just ‘wing it’ and get back on track. I blame this irrational belief on exhaustion, hunger, being wet, and an unwarranted faith in my sense of direction. Several neighborhoods and a national park later, we were hopelessly lost.
Apparently, there is a huge section of DC that they forgot to pave over. It is more than 1,700 acres of natural beautiful that they call Rock Creek Park, which we somehow ended up in the middle of. I had never even heard of it before. It’s somewhat jarring to be driving through crowded city streets and skyscrapers and street garbage one second, and then be surrounded by a serene forest full of trees and creeks the next. I found out later that the park is currently undergoing reconstruction, so there are lots of detours and such, which is probably how my directions led us into it, rather than around it. It was a nice park, and I very much enjoy nature, but we were very tired, plus all the “Gates close at dusk” signs began to make us anxious to get out before we were locked in. Eventually we found our way out, which was coincidentally right around where we entered despite never having turned around. That’s D.C. for you.
There is one thing worse than being lost in a huge, unfamiliar city, away from the touristy parts, as it is starting to get dark. And that is being lost in a huge, unfamiliar city, away from the touristy parts, as it is starting to get dark, and having your 4-year old in the back seat say, “I need to go potty!”
I don’t really consider us to be uncivilized hillbillies, but sometimes you have to take your daughter behind a random building in the middle of a major urban district so she can pee outside. Somehow, in the middle of a neighborhood in Washington D.C., we couldn’t find anywhere with a public restroom and we weren’t willing to take the chance that we could find one in time. I will add that it was a grassy area behind a building in a quiet suburb, not in an alley with people wandering around. We’re not complete hicks. She handled it well, since sadly, she is getting used to things like this happening to us constantly. Her main question was, “Whose house is this?” I was fairly certain that I didn’t want to find out.
Since we were stopped anyway, we used this time to call my Dad, who probably had access to the internet and could look up specific directions out of town from where we were. He gladly helped us find our way out. I will add that even internet map sites get confused by D.C. (When your directions say to take a route that has “access road” in the name, that has got to be a good bet, right?)
We eventually made it to a main road which led us to the interstate, again thanks to my wife’s spectacular driving skills. It is no easy task to be driving and paying attention to traffic, while listening to second-hand directions being relayed over the phone, while also trying to ignore the chattering of three children in the back seat who are in a constant state of either fighting, demanding to know how long it will be, or excitedly talking about their day, all at maximum volume.
When we made it to a familiar route, it was probably the first and only time I have ever been glad to be getting onto the beltway. It was around this point that we realized that our dinner plans would have to be modified, so we resolved to find somewhere out of the city. To help stave off the complaints from the back seats, we let the kids have some cookies left over from lunch, which our son fished out of the cooler from his seat. My use of the term ‘fished’ in that sentence is not a figure of speech, unfortunately. The cookies, much like us, were soggy, because water from the cooler apparently got into the bag somehow. Water related incidents seemed to be the theme for the day.
Before we could make it to a suitable restaurant, our other daughter suddenly and without warning urgently needed to go potty, possibly due to the extra water she inadvertently consumed due to the soggy cookies. We desperately began searching for a close, safe location that was likely to have a functioning restroom, based on the info you can gather from those blue signs on the interstate. And she was a real trooper about holding it, though I think she was beginning to get desperate by the time we found a place, based on the number of times, and increasing volume at which she said, “Hurry!”
We made it to a gas station with a public restroom and rushed her in, just in the nick of time. While I was waiting outside for everyone to finish, a man came up to me and politely asked if I could help him jump start his car. I did, of course, and everyone went on their way. If our day had gone even remotely as planned, we would have been nowhere near that gas station at that time of night, and that only a very odd set of circumstances led us to being there at the exact moment he needed help, so I figured that guy had somewhat better luck than I do. Then again, his car was broken down and he was forced to ask a stranger in a big city for help at night, so maybe we're even.
Eventually we made it to dinner, and then home safely with no one any worse for the wear (with the exception of the cookies.) The trip home taught me something: 1. A GPS of some kind would probably be a pretty valuable investment for us, if we could ever afford to go anywhere; 2. Sometimes getting lost will take you to wonderful new places you never knew existed and would have never visited otherwise, which you can appreciate later on the off chance that you survive; and 3. Say what you will about D.C., but there are a surprising number of beautiful grassy areas for you to pee in if necessary.
Everyone knows that driving in D.C. is a nightmare. This is why, on a recent family trip to the National Zoo, I knew that the directions you take to get there are not the reverse of the directions to get home. So I thought I had planned accordingly, when I printed out two separate sets of directions (one for the trip there, one for the trip home,) in a feeble attempt to thwart Ring Luck.
After our action-packed day at the zoo (which you can read about in a previous post,) we had decided to make our way home. We were all worn out from from a fun day, still somewhat damp from all the rain, and hungry, which we planned to remedy as soon as we got home. Little did we know that this would take slightly longer than planned. By ‘slightly,’ of course, I mean seven hours.
As it turns out, there are many exits from the zoo. As it also turns out, the directions I had to get us home led from a different exit. For some reason we figured we could just ‘wing it’ and get back on track. I blame this irrational belief on exhaustion, hunger, being wet, and an unwarranted faith in my sense of direction. Several neighborhoods and a national park later, we were hopelessly lost.
Apparently, there is a huge section of DC that they forgot to pave over. It is more than 1,700 acres of natural beautiful that they call Rock Creek Park, which we somehow ended up in the middle of. I had never even heard of it before. It’s somewhat jarring to be driving through crowded city streets and skyscrapers and street garbage one second, and then be surrounded by a serene forest full of trees and creeks the next. I found out later that the park is currently undergoing reconstruction, so there are lots of detours and such, which is probably how my directions led us into it, rather than around it. It was a nice park, and I very much enjoy nature, but we were very tired, plus all the “Gates close at dusk” signs began to make us anxious to get out before we were locked in. Eventually we found our way out, which was coincidentally right around where we entered despite never having turned around. That’s D.C. for you.
There is one thing worse than being lost in a huge, unfamiliar city, away from the touristy parts, as it is starting to get dark. And that is being lost in a huge, unfamiliar city, away from the touristy parts, as it is starting to get dark, and having your 4-year old in the back seat say, “I need to go potty!”
I don’t really consider us to be uncivilized hillbillies, but sometimes you have to take your daughter behind a random building in the middle of a major urban district so she can pee outside. Somehow, in the middle of a neighborhood in Washington D.C., we couldn’t find anywhere with a public restroom and we weren’t willing to take the chance that we could find one in time. I will add that it was a grassy area behind a building in a quiet suburb, not in an alley with people wandering around. We’re not complete hicks. She handled it well, since sadly, she is getting used to things like this happening to us constantly. Her main question was, “Whose house is this?” I was fairly certain that I didn’t want to find out.
Since we were stopped anyway, we used this time to call my Dad, who probably had access to the internet and could look up specific directions out of town from where we were. He gladly helped us find our way out. I will add that even internet map sites get confused by D.C. (When your directions say to take a route that has “access road” in the name, that has got to be a good bet, right?)
We eventually made it to a main road which led us to the interstate, again thanks to my wife’s spectacular driving skills. It is no easy task to be driving and paying attention to traffic, while listening to second-hand directions being relayed over the phone, while also trying to ignore the chattering of three children in the back seat who are in a constant state of either fighting, demanding to know how long it will be, or excitedly talking about their day, all at maximum volume.
When we made it to a familiar route, it was probably the first and only time I have ever been glad to be getting onto the beltway. It was around this point that we realized that our dinner plans would have to be modified, so we resolved to find somewhere out of the city. To help stave off the complaints from the back seats, we let the kids have some cookies left over from lunch, which our son fished out of the cooler from his seat. My use of the term ‘fished’ in that sentence is not a figure of speech, unfortunately. The cookies, much like us, were soggy, because water from the cooler apparently got into the bag somehow. Water related incidents seemed to be the theme for the day.
Before we could make it to a suitable restaurant, our other daughter suddenly and without warning urgently needed to go potty, possibly due to the extra water she inadvertently consumed due to the soggy cookies. We desperately began searching for a close, safe location that was likely to have a functioning restroom, based on the info you can gather from those blue signs on the interstate. And she was a real trooper about holding it, though I think she was beginning to get desperate by the time we found a place, based on the number of times, and increasing volume at which she said, “Hurry!”
We made it to a gas station with a public restroom and rushed her in, just in the nick of time. While I was waiting outside for everyone to finish, a man came up to me and politely asked if I could help him jump start his car. I did, of course, and everyone went on their way. If our day had gone even remotely as planned, we would have been nowhere near that gas station at that time of night, and that only a very odd set of circumstances led us to being there at the exact moment he needed help, so I figured that guy had somewhat better luck than I do. Then again, his car was broken down and he was forced to ask a stranger in a big city for help at night, so maybe we're even.
Eventually we made it to dinner, and then home safely with no one any worse for the wear (with the exception of the cookies.) The trip home taught me something: 1. A GPS of some kind would probably be a pretty valuable investment for us, if we could ever afford to go anywhere; 2. Sometimes getting lost will take you to wonderful new places you never knew existed and would have never visited otherwise, which you can appreciate later on the off chance that you survive; and 3. Say what you will about D.C., but there are a surprising number of beautiful grassy areas for you to pee in if necessary.
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