Person
Perched on Passenger Seat (PPOPS), a new acronym! And here I am, a PPOPS, as we
follow the asphalt ribbons of roadway southbound through North and South
Carolina---along with ten million other travelers heading south, with a
majority of license plates from Ontario and Quebec, as well as Massachusetts,
Virginia and Maryland. The pockets of traffic we find ourselves in feels like a
convoy only to be impeded by drivers who felt it necessary to change lanes
(only two lanes; either left or right!) every 500 feet, which causes the
eventual braking of the immediate two million drivers following. We have vowed
to never travel on a holiday weekend again.
The
best thing about being a “PPOPS” is being able to glance out across the miles
and consider the towns and villages and those who helped weave the tapestry of
the countryside. South of Fayetteville is a town named Lumberton; named because
of its lumber resources, I would guess. It is also the half way point between
New York City and Florida. Crossing into the next Carolina is the ever-marketed
South of the Border, near Dillon. When our kids were young and we lived in
Syracuse and traveled to Florida, there was the contest in the backseat of how
many South of the Border billboards were posted; we never really got the number
right but it was near 60. Now the billboards are limited in count and while
there is a good stopover campground there really is not too much to make one
intentionally stop. Crossing over the Great Pee Dee River into Florence one
wonders how many fathers, sons , brothers and uncles’ lives were ended in the
largest prisoner of war camp during the War of the North and South. Further
down the road we pass a town named Moncks Corner, at the elevation of 50 foot
above sea level and slightly below 8 thousand residents, I wonder if the town’s
name is a result of the Trappist monks who now live on a former
plantation.
Advancing
down the road was more than challenging, especially because of the number of
vehicles versus the two-laned roadway on I-95 south through the Carolinas. As
the designated POPS, can’t help but speculate the driver(s) five miles ahead of
us who is going the speed limit and is then approached by a cluster of drivers
who are going ten over the speed limit and suddenly need to apply their brakes,
that causes the approaching traffic to in turn apply brakes, and again and
again until five miles back we are having to apply our brakes. And then, of
course, those who think if they then change lanes they will be further ahead.
NOT! And so it continued, for miles and miles and hours and hours.
Although
95 spans a mere 116 miles through the lowcountry of Georgia it took us nearly 2
½ hours of stop-n-go traveling. We pulled over at the Florida Welcome Center in
Yulee about 7 o’clock to put our heads down and hopefully awaken to less travel
in the morning.
