Monday, January 18, 2010
P.S. to 18
posted at 11:43 PM |
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Since I wouldn't dream of disobeying my conceit of the one-sentence-a-day format, I must write this separately. When I got on the Parkway leaving Chatham, I knew I'd need gas before I got home but I didn't realize it was quite as low as it was. I didn't see a station in town at least in the direction I went (there may be one the other way, of course) and I didn't see any cute little tank icon on any exit sign as I drove along muttering to myself that I'd go to the first one I came to. It was going to be about 40 miles on the highway til I got to my own exit - I was on the Taconic State Parkway (or Takanak, as my GPS's voice pronounces it). And then up popped the dreaded lighted gas tank sign. I looked it up one time and my manual reassuringly says you have 20-30 miles after the light goes on but mile after mile went by and no gas sign or station. It wasn't until around 27 miles from when the light went on that a sign indicating gas at an exit and it nearly made me jump up and down except that it's hard to drive carefully at gas-conserving 55 mph while jumping up and down, if you've ever tried it. Anyway, lovely day despite having to hold my breath so long. And I do wonder what impressively powerful group that cherishes pristine countryside holds so much sway in all those nice towns that there's absolutely no cell reception for almost the whole distance from Clinton to Austerlitz and not one single gas station.
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