Hail, hail Freedonia,
land of the brave…and…free!
quote:
Originally posted by Waverly
I’ve had the misfortune of driving through that area, and you can’t tell southern NYS from Pennsyltucky until, and unless, you run into the fireworks and porn stands that testify to the fact that you are in the keystone state.
Um, you definately WEREN"T in PA. Fireworks are a big no-no in this state (Ohio, though). And Porn stands? I have no idea where a porn stand would be ! (Ok, maybe one in Pittsburgh, on McKnight Road) Maybe you WERE in Ohio…
re: Fredonia
Funny enough, Fredonia, PA is not far from Jamestown, PA. Fredonia, NY is not far from Jamestown, NY.
A tourist once asked me how to walk to DC! We were outside Pentagon City at the time. That shopping mall is pretty much across the street from the Pentagon, there are no pedestrian-friendly routes into DC from that neighborhood. I told him he would have to go through Arlington Cemetary.
One of my sisters made at least two complete loops around the Captiol Beltway on her way to visit me from upstate NY, or so she said.
Sweet corn…tomatoes…porn…nope, this isn’t the Buckeye State* I know.
*Motto: Comfortably Average
And stop doing Ohio vanity searches, Uncle Beer.
My wag:
He was using a GPS.
I have personally found that after using GPS navigation a few times you become totally dependant on it. You won’t question it and will continue to follow it till you get there - even if you are going to the Empire State Building and the GPS indicates 0.1 mile ahead and you are in the middle of a cow pasture.
When used responsibility it will get you to within 100 ft of your destination 90% of the time (personal experence), but then you get lasy, just program it and don’t check to see if it makes sense - then it will bite you in the ass.
Since the town and street name was the same I would guess that he didn’t notice that PA came up.
Nope. I used to drive down route 15 routinely, and nearly the moment you crossed the border you were beset by what appear to be converted outhouses selling fireworks and porn emporiums the size of Great America Mall. Perhaps you live in some other Pennsyltucky, because the one bordering NY is filled with porn and gunpowder.
Nope. I used to drive down route 15 routinely, and nearly the moment you crossed the border you were beset by what appear to be converted outhouses selling fireworks and porn emporiums the size of Great America Mall. Perhaps you live in some other Pennsyltucky, because the one bordering NY is filled with porn and gunpowder.
Out here in Western PA, we are very prim and proper, and high falutin’. Outhouses have been banished since at least 1960. And heck, I used to work in a place that kept the Playboys under the counter, and you had to know to ask for one, since none were ever on display. No porn or gunpowder here.
You’ve been visiting the coal mine towns of Eastern PA, a whole world away, the prototype of Appalachian coal mine towns.
One politician once said Pennsylvania is really five states in one: Philly area, Western PA, Harrisburg Area, Coal mining valley, and Northern Forest area. It’s also has some of the most densely populated areas, and is one of the most rural states at the same time.
My most common road trip is to go from NYS Thruway/I-81 exit 21, south through Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia, Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana to end up in Texas at I-20 Exit 599.
When I’m headed north along that route, I start being confused as soon as I get past Wilkes-Barre, unsure whether I’ve gotten all the way to New York yet or whether this is still Pennsylvania. Since it’s always after dark when I hit that stretch, I tend to remain confused right up until I go through the NYS Thruway toll booth…
In Virginia, when I stop for gas, I often ask the attendant whether I’m still in Virginia - not because I’m seriously concerned as to my whereabouts, but because I’m thinking “Please, God, let this be over! Let me not be in Virginia anymore!” (Seriously, Virginia is about ten hours long. And until you get to the mountains where you meet Tennessee, there’s not even any interesting scenery to watch.)
The corner of Georgia I go through, I always think is Alabama just because it’s rather short. And then I start thinking Alabama is Mississippi, because they’re both flat, featureless, dusty-orange wastelands full of truck stops that were built in the '60s and not touched since. (I can’t believe I used to live there!)
I’ve never been quite so clueless as the guy mentioned in the OP, yet.
I drove from Klamath Falls, Oregon to Reno once taking all the back roads. There were signs all the way: Reno>>>Reno<<<.
Coming back there were no signs to Klamth Falls. Pulled into a restaurant and asked the waitress what State we were in. She said “You are in Alturas, Caifornia!!” Still cracks me up.
OH, God, you should try driving in Nevada. When my mom and I go on a road trip, I’m the designated navigator, because I have a sense of direction, and Mom doesn’t, and even I almost get us lost sometimes. At least I can figure out where we should have turned off.
The road and highway signs out here seem almost to be designed to get you lost. Signs telling you what lane you need to be in to get to your destination (left lane goes straight, right lane goes to the exit, center lane goes nowhere) have arrows pointing straight down to the lane- the wrong lane. Exit signs are often so close to the exit that by the time you see them, there’s no room to get into the correct lane to get on to the exit.
There are little roadside stands and stores all over the state that seem to make their living off of people who get lost by following the misleading highway signs. Stop at this little diner, get something to eat while you look at your map and try to find your way back to your exit, buy a bottle of liquor because by the time you finally get to where you’re going, you will need a drink (the first thing I did after the guy in the next room helped me and mom break into our reserved room at the Little Ale Inn in Rachel because nobody told the night clerk, who went home at eleven, to leave the door unlocked for us was pour myself a very strong ameretto and coke).
Course the guy knew what state he was in - a State of Confusion!
BAHAHAHAHAHA! I kill me!
Another lost tourist story – me! Twice, I’ve had no problem at all getting to Santa Fe, NM.
But both times, I couldn’t find my way out of town! I ended up on little windy roads in the back country, from which I could actually see the freeway I wanted to be on…but couldn’t get there! (Both times, I was assisted by friendly local folk.)
Lovely town, but hard to get out of!
Trinopus
I was driving back from Amsterdam (AmsterDope) to my dad’s in Landstuhl, Germany and somehow took a wrong turn through Belgium and into France.
Ooops!
Well, I would have taken the subway, but I can understand not knowing how far DC was if you were a tourist. But now being able to find the Washington Monument? Not only were we in DC at the time, we were at an intersection about a block off of the Mall. I just pointed at the Monument and said,“It’s right there.” They thanked me and left.
I have been lost twice on road trips. Both times were in northern New Jersey. I have decided to avoid that area while driving from now on.
Lok
I have different lost story.
I was with a friend and we were out to score some drugs. (it was in my drug-addled youth) We did score some acid in a town called Trotwood, Ohio. We took the acid, smoked a couple of bowls, and headed for home. But neither of us were that familiar with the town. (we had given a guy a ride to the dealers house in exchage for the connection, and didn’t get good directions back to the highway)
We figured ‘how hard could it be?’ Damned hard, as it turned out. We kept trying promising looking roads, thinking it would lead us back. And we kept coming to signs that said ‘Welcome to Trotwood’. For a solid hour we were driving through residential streets and rural roads, and coming up on a ‘Welcome to Trotwood’ sign. It was like something out of the Twilight Zone. All roads lead to Trotwood. At least when we found the highway, we were tripping pretty hard.
Oh, lordy that Trotwood thing is funny.
My wife has some sort of problem with driving and directions whenever we get near a city. In the vast rolling mountains of upstate NY along hundreds of miles of unmarked roads she just drives along and gets right to where we need to be.
Driving south … once we hit the Baltimore beltway she gets completely clueless. We’ve driven it about a dozen times and every single time she can’t figure out where we are, what city we are near, what beltway it is or which way she should go. Drives me crazy.
First time I took a road trip, I went from eastern PA to southern NC. I knew exactly what roads to take, the approximate distance between my connections and an approximate travel time.
I was absolutely and completely correct in every way. The next time I went, I took my not-yet wife with me and asked her to read the directions for me for simplicity.
She got me totally messed up. We were off by hundreds of miles and took two hours too long.
Sheesh. Women.
