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     If one had told me when to and when not to prepare for adventures, life would seem a lot simpler.  It was early spring and a friend and I were returning from a retreat for the weekend from the regular hustle and bustle of regular day life.  Both Alex and I were suffering from what is known as lost relationships with our former partners.  His seven-month intense involvement with a woman ended about a month ago.  My year and a half intense involvement with a woman ended just last week.  Needless to say, adjustment back to normal single life was going to be a little rocky at first.  The plan was simple.  We were going to escape Rochester for the weekend for some mano-a-mano retreat.  And, like true men, we were going to pamper ourselves:  Not in the wilderness like on television or the movies, but in a city, a big city, known as the Big Apple; New York City.  Upon return back to Rochester, we will be refreshed, rejuvenated, and ready to face a new day; not too much to ask for.  There were always lessons to be learned and these lessons were neither easy nor difficult.  It all depended whether one chose to resist the learning of the lessons, or not.

     Earlier that day, we packed the car, had dim sum with my parents, refueled, and headed on the road back to Rochester.  My father made some commotion about the weather.  New York City was supposed to receive a few inches of snow by nightfall.  We figured by that time, we would already be resting back in our final destination.  My mother made me promise to call when we arrived back home safely.
     Looking at the map, Alex wanted to ensure that we were on the most efficient route out of New York City and into Jersey.  There were multiple options, and he knew this.  Noticing the traffic, he grew a little nervous.  On the road atlas, his fingers roamed around Manhattan Island and then Jersey, “Is this the way to 80?  There are so many roads on this map.  I’m not really sure if I can make them all out.”
     I replied, “Yeah.  I’m sure.  You don’t need to look at that.  Don’t worry.  I’ve taken this route for years.  I know it like the back of my hand.  As soon as we hit the other side of this tunnel, the traffic will let up and we’ll be ‘scott’ free.  We’ll cruise back.  No problem.  You’ll see.  You have any plans you have to make?”
     “No,” he answered in relief, “Not really.”  His voice grew a little somber.  In addition to his loss of a relationship, he was also in the midst of finding a new job after being laid off from Kodak a few months earlier.
     Noticing his mood change, I noted, “Don’t worry, something will come up.  Something always does.”  We exited out of the Holland Tunnel and once again, the radio reception returned.  The unattractive overcast skies were once again visible.  The automatic headlights switched off with a click and the dashboard lights dimmed.  One would expect a highway to be on the other side of this tunnel, but instead, there was a street. We approached a group of cars waiting at the traffic light.  The entrance to route 1&9 was just on the other side, and we all seemed like a batch of race cars reeving up their engines to prepare for the onslaught of adrenaline when the light changed from red to green.  “Just after 1&9, we’ll hit 280.  From there, we’ll go right into 80.  Pretty simple huh?”
     “Yes,” Alex’s relief was more prevalent now.
     “Hey, hey,” I started chuckling, “Remember that line in the movie after the kid asks him something about beauty being just in the eye of the beholder?”
     Alex and I laughed out loud and yelled out in unison, “That’s just something ugly people say!” The car filled with laughter.
     “Hey man,” I smiled and pointed to him, “You.  You’re beautiful.”
     Alex laughed and mentioned back, “No man.  You.  You’re beautiful.”  We both looked at each other and laughed out loud again.

     An hour had passed by and the volume in the car had been consistently full of chuckles about the weekend; apparently, a great success.  We were also making great time traveling in the car.  We had progressed from 1&9 to 280, and were currently traveling on Interstate 80.  We were coming up close to the Delaware River Gap.  “You know something?” questioning Alex, “You can take this road and travel straight across America on this.”
     He looked at me waiting for the punch line and anticipated to laugh, “Oh yeah?”
     “No really,” I replied sarcastically, “Wanna give it a shot?”
     Alex just smiled a little.
     It was just about then when the weather turned slightly.  The roads seemed a little shinier.  The drizzle became more like hail.   Traffic seemed to have slowed down.  There were a few cars on the road that did not seem to be affected by the change; our car and the car just behind us were a couple.  The car behind us was a dark blue Jetta.  And, it seemed to follow us a little too closely.  I looked in the rear view mirror and noticed the driver.  He seemed to be in his late twenties and hair short dark hair jetted off at the sides.  Apparently, the new found weather conditions did not bother him either.  I observed the traffic across all four lanes.  It seemed that the two right lanes traveled at a near twenty miles per hour slower than the other two lanes.  I signaled, looked over to the next lane and proceeded over.  Looking over to the right, we passed a few vehicles and felt a little bit ahead of the race.  The traffic seemed to get a little more congested as we progressed.
     I looked the rear view mirror.  The Jetta continued right behind us.  He must have transferred lanes along with us.  It still puzzled me why he insisted on following so close.  It was at this point that he turned on his headlights.  I looked over to the lane left of us and there was room enough for him to pass; yet he did not.  He followed tightly behind us.  I looked in the mirror to see if I could make out an expression on his face, but could not.  I looked over to Alex and he shook his head.
     “Some people just are that way,” he commented.
     The weather conditions grew a little bit more intense, and once again, the traffic slowed.  I had to ease up on the accelerator to decrease our speed.  We passed more vehicles; some cars, many trucks, and noted some salt trucks.  We were traveling at a decent speed and did not want to decrease it any further.  I looked for an open lane.  The lanes on the right side were definitely out of the question.  I looked over to the lane left of us and waited for clearance.  I spotted an opening approaching between two cars.  I also spotted how close the Jetta was actually tailgating us.  I hit the lever to turn on the turn signal and the Jetta once again followed us as we switched lanes: so closely, it seemed like our vehicles were attached at the bumpers.  The Jetta kept on our tail and followed us further up the road.
      Ten minutes had passed and traffic had slowed once again.  The weather grew more intense and hail fell heavier.  It made a continuous loud cracking sound as it hit the windshield.  A shiny coat of ice laid on the ground.  Alex pointed to some vehicles that had slid off the road and into the center island, which during any other time would consist of grass instead of being filled with snow and ice.  I knew that as long as I did not make any sudden movements, we would be okay.  My hands relaxed on the steering wheel making sure not to make any sudden jerky movements, and my foot eased off the accelerator a bit.  We started to coast.  I looked in the rear view mirror and the Jetta still followed closely behind us.  I looked ahead.  The four lanes of traffic were merging into two.  Also, ahead a few hundred yards, traffic seem to come to a halt.  All I could see were brake lights.  I lifted my foot completely off of the accelerator; and was careful not to press on the brakes.
     “Watch out,” Alex pointed ahead.
     “I know,” I responded, “ I see it.  He’s still behind us too.”
     “That’s not good,” Alex grew nervous.
     “I know.  I know,” I thought to myself and pressed the hazard button located at the top of the steering wheel.  At this point, I expected the Jetta to see the hazard lights blinking and back off a bit, but he did not.  He followed just as close as he did before.  We traveled at a mere twenty-five miles per hour at this point.  I raised my foot atop the brake pedal.  I wanted to wait until the last possible moment to press on it as the halted traffic quickly approached.  Hopefully, pressing the brakes while traveling slow enough will enable us not to spin out of control.  I looked in the rear view mirror and the Jetta stayed right on our tail.  The speedometer read twenty and I looked once again.  He was still there.  I looked ahead and the halted traffic was closer now.  The speedometer read fifteen.  I looked in the mirror and he was still there.  I had no choice.  I had to apply the brakes now.
     I began softly depressing the brakes, and felt the car shift slightly to the left.  My grip tightened on the steering wheel.  I lifted my foot and released the brakes, and instinctively applied them again.  Alex seemed to grip for the dashboard.  My eyes peeled at the road immediately ahead of us, aligning the view with the hood, I could note the angle of the car.  After a split second, the car seemed to automatically correct itself.  The low traction light lit up on the dashboard, which meant that the ABS kicked in.  I looked in the mirror and the image of the Jetta that was immediately behind us was not there anymore.  About thirty feet back was a dark blue car that laid perpendicular to the road.  I looked again, and noted that it was the Jetta.  He started to shimmy his car back and forth to get back pointing in the right direction.  Traffic came to a complete stop and we sat there.  The Jetta slowly crept back behind us.
     A few minutes had passed and traffic had not moved an inch.  The Jetta that tailgated us earlier was still there.  He did not seem to be such a nuisance anymore.  I put the car in park and took my foot off the brake pedal.  I turned up the window defroster and cleared away some of the fog on the windows.  We looked around outside.  Alex pointed to some of the other cars and noticed that people were coming out to see what lay ahead.  I removed my seat belt, reached in the back seat for my coat, struggled to put it on, and stepped out of the car.  I grew anxious in curiosity.  The first thing that I noticed was the stillness and briskness of the air.  It felt as though my cheeks could freeze in a few minutes.  I circled around the front of the car to gaze up between the two lanes.  There were miles and miles of cars for as far as I could see.  At this point, I realized that this would probably take a while.  Alex looked at me and sought an expression.  I nodded my head negatively.  I circled back to the driver’s side door and looked behind us at the guy in the Jetta.  He did not look back.  I reentered the car.
     “What did you see?” Alex asked, “What did you see?”
     “Nothing,” I answered, “All there is are cars and cars.  No accident.  No nothing.  Just a bunch of stopped cars and it goes on forever.”
     Alex pointed to the dashboard, “Do we?  Do we?,” hesitantly, “Do we have enough gas?”  I looked at the gas guage and it read one eighth of a tank left.  I gripped the keys in the ignition and shut the car off.
     “I’ll turn it back on when we need some more heat.  Is that okay?” I asked.
     Alex seemed a bit nervous, “Yeah.  Sure.  That’s okay.”
     We talked a bit more and the windows started to fog up.

(Continued in Part II)

 
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