So, as we continue along Harlem River Drive knocking over every orange barrel for two miles, I am envisioning one of two things. Either there is going to be flashing lights in our mirror at any moment after some angry New Yorker called us in for wrecking their street or, the signs that keeping flashing past us specifying, PASSENGER CARS ONLY means that this street is going to get small enough at some point that we are going to get stuck like a cow with her head in the fence and there is going to be a huge backup while all sorts of emergency vehicles are pulling on our tale trying to free us from some precarious overpass that we tried to squeeze through! Did I mention we have 7 horses and a big load of antique furniture in the trailer?
But that didn’t happen. We made it to one of the two streets this highly unaware individual who gave us directions (we’ll call him HUI for short) told us to turn on and since I was really anxious to get off this PASSENGER CAR ONLY road, I give the go ahead on the first available road, 96th street.
Well, as it turns out, 96th is only slightly narrower than the road we just turned off of and Mr. HUI didn’t mention that 96th was a narrow one way and 97th which he said we could also turn on, was a much wider four lane road. It is at this point that it occurs to me that just because it is nearly 11:30 pm, down town New York is not closed up like my good ol’ home town of Lund, Nevada population 450 would be this time of night, and here I was thinking parking would be a cinch at this late hour.
On the contrary, this place was buzzing with activity, it was very obvious we we’re not going to find a 60 ft parking space anywhere. As we pass street after street that we would not be able to turn on I am hoping this isn’t going to be the end of the road for us. Finally, we come to Third Ave which is big enough to make a left go over a few blocks and make another left, and there it is! We made it, and there is actually a bus stop right there that we almost fit in so we are only blocking one lane of traffic.
Mr. HUI is actually on the ball and has all three boxes on a dolly and is heading up the side walk towards us. I wonder how he knew it was us? While Martin jumps out to load the treasures, I am planning our escape route and it looks to me like the thing to do would be to continue down Manhattan Island to the Holland Tunnel, hit I 78 via Pulaski Skyway or 9 or 1 or 22 or whatever the hec that road is that isn’t a toll road that goes straight to 78. Looks like a good idea but I better talk to a Native so I jump out, map in hand, assuming that now that Mr. HUI has seen the rig he will be a much more competent direction giver. I run my plan by him he says that will work, the Holland Tunnel or the Lincoln tunnel either one. Alrighty then, we are set, this isn’t so bad we got er’ whipped!
We jump back in the truck and off we go down Manhattan Island, after about the tenth stoplight in 100 yards I look back at the map and realize that we just left 97th street and we have to go to 1st and then some to get to the Holland Tunnel! That is approximately 100 stop lights in what 2 miles.You can drive 6 hours in Nevada, on pavement mind you, and never encounter a stop light. I’m a little worried at this point that we are never going to make it through all this stopping and going without more than a couple New Yorkees and a taxi cab being caught up in the massive Roo guard on the front of the Mad Max Mobile as Buck Brannaman so calls it!
But Martin over there is as cool as a cat like he’s done this before… either that or he is just having fun playing the Big-Rig card. I just hope these poor unsuspecting people know the rules of the Big- Rig game, but I am quickly consumed with trying to find my camera to document this adventure and leave the poor unsuspecting people to fend for themselves in the wake of the Freightliner.
To be continued…
