The Driving Rain

Even though I'm an excellent driver, I'd rather be the passenger and let someone else drive. But I am perfectly willing to take my turn on a long journey because if you share the driving duties, no one gets too tired.

Then there's the matter of leaving on time. We typically set our departure time and feel that we've made it if we've got the wheels rolling within an hour of the set time. (Note that this only applies to road trips - not airport runs.) So the Friday we left for Galveston we were late leaving. Our departure time was supposed to be 1 PM, but by the time we did all the little things we had to do before leaving the house for a week, and then leaving and returning home to get our passports, it was 3 PM before we actually set off in earnest. We would arrive closer to 8:30 than 6:30.

Mark drove through the Dallas traffic. I'm a bit timid when it comes to lane changes. (I should be a bit timid - that cervical spine fusion I had a decade ago put a few limits on how far I can turn my head to see what's behind me and mirrors have blind spots.) But once we were out of the city and sailing down I-45, I took over the driving duties so Mark could finish his reports and get them sent off. The entire trip was supposed to take five and a half hours. Of course, one of those hours was spent getting through Dallas. (Another would be spent getting through Houston.)

But I drove and admired the wildflowers along the highway until we were about an hour away from Houston. At that point, the GPS showed that we were about an hour and a half away from our destination in Galveston. At that point I turned the driving over to Mark.

He'd probably only been at the wheel for 15 minutes when the rain started. It started out slowly so we were hopeful that it would only be a few big splotches and then it would disappear. But instead, it started to gain momentum. By the time we were on the south side of Houston it was torrential.

That last 30 minutes ended up being an hour. Water was running down the street like it was a river. It was so dark, I couldn't see anything out the passenger side window. But I could see on the GPS that we were very near the water. I didn't know if the water flowing on the road was from the rain or if the Gulf waters were washing up onto the road. I only know that I was, shall we say "a bit edgy". I'm glad I wasn't driving. But I wasn't happy being a passenger in that, either.

Years ago I was caught in a flash flood in Sherman, Texas. I saw what I thought were small cars driving through the underpass and thought that if those little things could go through, my big-butt Buick wouldn't have any trouble. What I later learned is that those little cars were floating. My Buick sank and stalled and I couldn't restart it. I started to panic when I saw that the water was halfway up the door. When the water started coming in on the floor and getting my feet wet, I was beyond panic. I was rescued by some guys with a pickup truck who pushed my car to safety. (No cell phones in those days.) I'm grateful to them. I'm not a strong swimmer anyway, and I think I would have drowned trying to swim in rushing water wearing a business suit (plus it was dark and I wouldn't have known which way to go.) But that's probably why I get a bit edgy in those weather conditions.

So while Mark was driving, and doing his best to avoid the people who drive like they are immortal, I sat quietly in the passenger seat praying to reach our destination safely. (It only takes one idiot...)

But we got there. Safe and sound.