Let’s see. Where was I? Oh, yeah, I’m supposed to describe my nightmare return home from the stadium.
But first, I want to ‘splain why I was so ignorant about the lanes from Interstate 95 to the 12th Avenue Exit of the Dolphin Expressway. I’ve never used that exit – that’s why. I have often taken that Expressway East which becomes a causeway to Miami Beach. I never had any reason to use the western portion of the Expressway. Rest assured, I know what lanes to get in the next time!
Next, a few more photos from the game:
The bar behind the center field fence at which fans can get bombed more quickly because they don’t have to wait for the beer vendors to reach their section in the stands – AND still be able to watch the game. 😉
Well, time to tell the sad story of my two hour plus return home. Surprisingly, it took only a half hour to get my car down four levels and out of the parking garage. And a nice parking attendant waived us all left at the exit – the way I wanted to go. “Won’t be long before I am on the Expressway, then the Interstate – well on my way!” thinks I.
But when I and the many behind me in the left lane of 4th Street got to the intersection of 12th Avenue prepared to make the left turn towards the Expressway ramp (Which was plainly marked on maps provided by the Marlins to be for left turns.) a police cruiser was blocking the left turn lane and a traffic cop was waiving for both lanes to turn right on 12th Avenue.
The guy in front of me stopped and called the cop over, obviously insisting that he had to turn left. It actually took more than five minutes of the driver pleading, the cop screaming and gesticulating and horns honking before the guy gave up and went right. (Not me honking – I don’t honk my horn in the city of Miami, especially in the Little Havana area – that’s is a good way to get yourself shot!)
So, I followed, going south when I want to go north, forced to go four blocks, then forced to turn right onto a street I didn’t want to be on, in the third lane on the left that I didn’t want to be in, going in a direction that I didn’t want to go in, and in traffic that was barely moving.
It wasn’t a total disaster, though. If I could get over two lanes before I got to 27th Avenue I could turn right there and head straight north to my town – heavy traffic and many, many traffic lights for twenty miles, but at least I’d be going in the right direction.
By a great stroke of luck, after about ten blocks and two and a half eternities , a bus to my right decided to move into the right lane. When a bus wants to move into ones lane in front of one, one lets it. Buses are lots bigger than cars! Thus, I was able to squirt over into the next lane as the bus changed lanes. And just before reaching 27th Avenue some nice person in the right lane permitted me to move over. So I made the turn – and after about 50 blocks of horrendous traffic I was finally able to make reasonable progress, reaching home before dark, a journey of about two hours and twenty minutes.
Hmmm….. 21 miles in 140 minutes. That works out to approximately 9 mph. If I had only been allowed to make that left turn onto 12th Avenue I’m sure the ride home would have taken no more than a half hour from that left turn.