Road Trip 3: Thick New York traffic while listening to the collapse of societies

The traffic makes New York a mess
Despite a new GPS
But I got quite annoyed
The tolls to avoid
Added 10 hours, more or less.

Synopsis: I’m a family practitioner from Sioux City, Iowa. I danced back from the brink of burnout in 2010, and, honoring a one-year non-compete clause, went for adventures working in out-of-the-way locations. After jobs in Alaska, New Zealand, Iowa, and Nebraska, I returned home and took a part-time position with a Community Health Center. I used vacation time to do two short assignments in Petersburg, Alaska. Currently on a road trip, I left the Community Health Center last month because of a troubled Electronic Medical Record (EMR) system.
Just before leaving Sioux City, I bought a new GPS unit for the trip. I named her Samantha.
Sweet heart, the GPS who guided us through my year of walkabout, had psychotic tendencies. From time to time, her screen would turn purple and she would demand a left turn in inappropriate places, such as boreal wilderness or the middle of a bridge. The simple universal Microsoft fix, turning off and turning on, worked well, but she took to losing contact with reality so frequently that we retired her and gifted her to a friend who rarely leaves town.
We bought her successor while in route to St. Louis, but I ruined her by attempting an update.
With the passage of two years, all car GPS systems have improved. Samantha gets traffic updates (I don’t know how) on a regular basis. I advised her in the beginning I didn’t want her telling me to make U turns, and when I left Pittsburgh, to get her semiconductors to avoid the Pennsylvania Turnpike, I told her to avoid tolls. Thus I got onto I-80 but didn’t realize I’d added 600 miles to a 300 mile trip till the middle of northern Pennsylvania.
With leaden skies over spectacular fall colors I proceeded east, and traffic thickened. Road kill possums, raccoons, and deer by the dozen lay in mute testimony to Newtonian physics.
Still, I maintained good average speed till the George Washington Bridge. Appropriately, I listened to an audio book on the collapse of societies while idling in coagulated traffic. I thought about Adak Island, where, less than three weeks ago, we marveled at seeing four vehicles moving at the same time. I decided that between the approaches and the span proper, the GWB held more pavement than the entire island where I’d hunted caribou, and possibly more than all of the Aleutians put together.
With jangled nerves, I picked Bethany up at the airport. Exiting proved beyond Samantha’s capabilities. With the experience of three laps through the maze, we figured it out.
I hope to drive in New York City as little as possible.


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