The stretch of road between I-65 and Lexington, KY is known to most of the world as Bluegrass Parkway, but it could easily be referred to as Bore You To Fucking Death Way, or I-Bet-I-Could-Fall-Asleep-And-Hit-Nothing Parkway. It’s an hour and a half of perfectly straight, frequently empty asphalt that practically dares you to try and stay awake. No matter how jacked up on caffeine you may be on I-65, Bluegrass Parkway will try to lull you into submission via boredom.
I was driving through Nelson County (aka Bum Fuck Egypt #7) when I saw a guy standing on the side of the road making the universal “slow down” hand sign. Or, at least universal in the South. This courtesy apparently doesn’t happen in, say, Baltimore. Anyway, I see this guy on the side of the road and figure that he knows something I don’t know about what’s coming. I tap my brakes to break my cruise control, and it’s all over. Invisible ice took control, sliding me to the left, then to the right, toward the rear bumper of a cop car parked at an accident where some people had hit the same ice and flown straight into the falling rock zone. The rocks didn’t look too tasty, so I turned back to the left, hoping to go side to side enough to slow the car down via friction. My roller skate of a car careened helplessly toward the grass between the two flows of traffic, and I was perpendicular to the road, thinking “I am still going to fast to hit that grass at a right angle…I am going to roll this car.”
By the time my mind finished flashing through thoughts of police reports, insurance claims, and tow trucks, the car stopped. It was covered in grass and sitting in oncoming traffic, but the engine was still running. Turned around the rest of the way and pulled in behind the cop car, on my own side of the highway. My leg was shaking enough to get caught in the iPod adapter cord, but I was able to get out of the car and walk up to the cop. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and still putting on his neon green emergency vest, he’d apparently been called in on his day off to handle the aforementioned smashed up car.
“Did you see that?”
“Yeah…do you need a wrecker?”
“If you don’t need anything, you can go.”
The car doesn’t have a scratch on it, but there’s some grass wedged in the right front wheel that will probably be there until the tires are taken off. Lucky, lucky, lucky.