Highways | D. Brent Miller

October 23, 2011November 18, 2011

The highway next to the Interstate

Fifty-five years ago, as the Cold War escalated and the nation needed a faster highway system for commerce and defense, President Eisenhower enacted the Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956, and the Interstate system was born. Interstate highways have allowed faster travel and created opportunities for businesses at or near those exits. But, there have been some unintended consequences. The Interstates have also bypassed some small towns, replaced historic highways like US 66, and drawn travelers away from town centers.

The Interstate highways are convenient and time saving. But, as Charles Kuralt said, you can now travel from one coast to the other on the interstate system without seeing anything.

Every time I drive between Cincinnati and Indianapolis on I-74, the highway next to the Interstate in southeastern Indiana has beckoned me. What is it? Where does it go? How do you get on it? Granted, an interstate drive between my home and downtown Indianapolis is a consistent two-hour drive. Add a few minutes for coffee and rest breaks, maybe 15 additional minutes.

Driving home from Indianapolis, with plenty of time on my hands and no schedule to keep, I pulled off the Interstate at exit 123 to buy gas and coffee at the Love’s Travel Center. When I pulled out, instead of turning right to get back on I-74, I turned left, determined to explore the highway next to the Interstate.

The county road was in great shape, maybe even resurfaced recently. It was smooth as … well smooth as fresh asphalt and rolled out to a hard firm roadway. I kept looking for a highway sign that would tell me what road I was on, but none appeared. Referring to a highway map, I believed I was looking for Indiana SR 46. I cruised past the new Honda plant and in the town of Greensburg, I wandered through the downtown to connect with SR 46 and a joy of a highway. Curves and hills abound. Pavement as smooth as that county road that passed the Honda plant.

I thought to myself, “Why have I not been on this highway before? It’s an excellent highway for motorcycling. Little traffic. Great road. An alternative to the boring interstate. Clearly, I was not the only one with thoughts of motorcycling on this road.

My body was in the car. My mind was on the motorcycle, enjoying a wonderful highway next to the interstate. And then, it came to an end. But then, the end was also a new beginning.

I decided not to get back on the interstate, but to wander through the back roads through Harrison, Ohio, before getting back onto the interstate that would take me home.

The views along the highway next to the interstate were mind-absorbing—homes decorated for the autumn, farmers harvesting crops, architecture of small town centers, cemeteries neatly groomed and rural churches beckoning “Come in and find some rest.”

At home, I poured over maps and atlases and even a Delorme Gazetteer Atlas to find a route that would take me home without getting on the interstate. I believe I was successful. I’ll let you know after I test the route … on the motorcycle.

I came to a conclusion after finally traveling the highway next to the interstate. The interstates serve our convenience. The back roads, and two-lane highways serve our souls and remind us we are travelers as well as part of a community.

See you on the highway… the one next to the interstate.

Brent

May 8, 2011

Abandoned playground

What happens to the playground when the small town school is abandoned for a newer facility or the school district is merged with another. All too often, the building is sold or even abandoned. The same is true for the playground.

See you on the highway.

Brent

May 6, 2011

Home delivery of the weekly free newspaper

The dually-wheeled pickup truck pulled out of the side road with plenty of safe distance, but then failed to accelerate to highway speeds. Following at a safe distance on the motorcycle, I soon realized why it was going slow and would continue to go slow.

At every driveway, he was flipping a rolled up newspaper in one of those plastic sleeves out of the truck. Although there was a passenger, the driver was like a robot, throwing to the left and then over the cab of the truck to the driveways on the right.

Because of the double yellow line, and the curves, I was content to follow and watch, but then, I had little choice. He rarely missed. Oh sure, there was an occasional paper in a tree, and one missed the driveway and slid into a gulley. That one will probably lay there for a while. Maybe a long while.

We have the same method of delivery in our neighborhood. The other day, while I was rolling the motorcycle out of the garage, and had it parked at the end of the drive, a delivery driver rolled by and threw our paper forcefully to the side of me. I will give him the benefit of doubt, because he did wave. I picked the weekly flyer up and properly disposed of it in the recycle bin. I never read them. But I am absolutely sure that all those papers thrown out on Middleboro Road delivered by that driver in a dual-wheeled, heavy duty pick up truck were read cover to cover. Well maybe. Okay, maybe they were recycled like mine.

The one aspect of this brief encounter that I am still wondering about is why anybody would use a heavy-duty, dual-wheel pick up truck to deliver newspapers. That thing probably gets 10 miles per gallon! Even the guy in my neighborhood is using a small car. Maybe the truck owner thought it would be a good way to deduct mileage and therefore write off the truck expense, and he would own a truck that could pull heavy duty equipment. Yeah, maybe that’s it.

Or, maybe it’s just a truck thing.

See you on the highway.

Brent

May 5, 2011

Semi-trucks and campers prohibited

With the weather improved, I went back to my ABCD photo location to grab another photo and show why semi-trucks and campers are prohibited. It took a 15mm fisheye lens to be able to show the whole picture. It’s a good road for motorcycling.

See you on the highway.

Brent

April 18, 2011November 18, 2011

Lost in thought on the highway

She was driving a little slower than other traffic in the right lane of the Interstate with her arm hanging out the window. With her armpit nearly on the sill, her arm hung low with the back of her hand facing forward and palm to the rear with fingers slightly curved. It was quite the opposite of a child who might stick their arm out an open window as if it were a wing, twisting the wrist to cause the arm to fly up or down. Her arm just hung there. The wind created by a 70-mile-per-hour speed limit seemed to have no effect.

Closing the distance and coming up even with her car, her face came into view—unsmiling, a blank stare down the highway, the kind of look that had deep thoughts behind it. Only minimal attention, enough to keep her auto in the lane.

My thoughts of travel turned to pondering hers. Was she driving to work, a job she disliked? Was she on her way to meet someone, or an emergency with memories filling her mind? Was she running away?

Soon, her car was viewable in the mirrors, and I was lost in my own thoughts, rehashing decisions, remembering fond memories, and thinking about the future, and wondering if the young lady arrived safely.

See you on the highway.

Brent