#chesapeake bay bridge-tunnel

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss

Just "following the gulls" back to Ocean City

SITTING ALONG THE OCEAN CITY, MARYLAND BOARDWALK: "Follow the gulls" happens to be the motto of the authority behind the Chesapeake Bay Bridge/Tunnel complex of some 18 miles northward on US 13 out of Hampton Roads ... and, for that matter, is their symbol. First opened in 1964 and seeing a second two-lane adaptation parallel and in tandem thereto in 1988, at least you have the breezes off the Chesapeake Bay cooling you off in the bridge and causeway sections.

Which was oh so evident when Huck and I picked up some crab cakes worth heating up in the motorhome for the next leg of the journey--back to Ocean City, Maryland. Where, as it turned out, our current motorhome came about during last year's Character Convocation at their Springfest celebrations.

"And you wonder how impressive this motorhome has turned out," Huck was quick to remark over some Cheerwine picked up at some store in Virginia Beach.

To which I responded, "Plenty of opportunities ... not to mention having the likes of Augie Doggie and Doggie Daddy, Hokey Wolf, Wally Gator, &c., joining us."

"Who do you think we might pick up next?" discerned Huck.

Which seemed a little bemusing as, not that far off, those Goofy Guards, by names Yippy, Yappy and Yahooey, were offering for $20 a pop an opportunity for visitors to try their hand at sword play in the regal(?) manner. Over some French fries from a nearby stand, we were able to get the bizarre canine trio over, dress uniform and all, to have a chat.

"So," Huckleberry Hound remarked, "what exactly drives you here, and perhaps for the summer?"

"Call ourselves performance artists, as it were," remarked Yappy, the somewhat midsized, portly and brainy one of the three. "But with a difference."

"As in the opportunity for tourists to try their hand at fencing-type activity in the swashbuckler, Errol Flynn-stylee, manner," added the short and at once smarty Yahooey.

"And," added the tall and lanky Yippy, "who exactly wouldn't want to try the opportunity to discover their inner fencing artist?"

"I just hope people aren't bound to get hurt," remarked I.

"But at least we're filling in a niche which a certain Touché Turtle seems uninterested in," Yahooey remarked.

"Still, fellers," Huck chimed in, "Touché Turtle considers himself more or less the strong, silent type."

"With that bent-tip foil of his?!" was how Yippy parsed it.

Whereupon no less than Touché Turtle "himself" made his presence known, howbeit with the foil sheathed in his shell.

"I assume you were making reference to me?" was how Touché responded to the Goofy Guards' remark. (He probably must have heard it some distance away.) The three nodded their heads in agreement, then prodded their way back to their stand a couple blocks upward.

"Still, guys," Touché chimed in, "I try being modest in offering help." (Pause) "Even if it gets hilarious in the end."

"And I do understand," saith I, "that your compadre Dum-Dum is houseboating these days with Bristlehound on the Mississippi River."

"Which I can accept," Touché responded, "even if he sends me postcards from time to time. Oft making note of Friday-night fish fries he and Bristlehound come across."

"Which, come to think of it," Huck remarked, "might offer something of an opportunity. Maybe a couple days taking in the sea air and sunshine here in OC, Snag and Touché, and perhaps catch up with Dum-Dum and Bristlehound somewhere along the Mississippi for a few days ourselves."

"Heavens to Mark Twain ... perhaps going part of the way along the old Lincoln Highway, at least from Breezewood westbound."

Which had Touché asking what exactly this Breezewood is, to which I explained, "A rather unlikely crossroads in Pennsylvania. Disneyland it isn't." Which had Touché, plumed hat and all, chuckling. But at any rate, folks, stay tuned to see how this unfoldeth.

*************

@warnerbrosentertainment @zodiacfan32 @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @jellystone-enjoyer @groovybribri @artistic-octopus @archive-archives @screamingtoosoftly @thebigdingle @oceancitymd @themineralyoucrave @thylordshipofbutts @warnerbros-blog1 @gravy-sammich @funtasticworld @theweekenddigest @indigo-corvus @iheartgod175 @warnerbrosent-blog

[dunbrine47]

Part one of my Memorial Day Trip to Virginia.

[thisexistsnow]

[have-you-been-here]

Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, Virginia, USA

[lawnchairthethird]

It’s 3 am. My husband had the brilliant idea to leave for our road trip at 1AM. I’m currently driving across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel in the pitch black. Look this shit up. I drove on it all the time, but it’s wild.

[bluemoonperegrine]

Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel shortly after dawn

[20th-century-personalities]

Omero C. Catan on Jan. 26, 1957, when he was the first motorist on the Florida Turnpike.Credit...via HistoryMiami Museum

“This is the greatest achievement of my life,” Omero C. Catan declared in 1937, on becoming the first toll-paying driver through the Lincoln Tunnel, the newly opened artery linking New York to New Jersey. “There will never be another like it.”

In fact, there would be hundreds more: Throughout most of the 20th century, when a major public-works project arose in New York and beyond — a bridge, a tunnel, an airport, a subway line — Catan, a Brooklyn-born vacuum cleaner salesman, made it his mission to beat all comers onto, into, across or through it.

He was the first person to ride the Madison Avenue bus when that route replaced the old trolley line in 1935 and the first to take the ice at the newly opened Rockefeller Center skating rink the next year. He was the first motorist on the New Jersey Turnpike in 1951, the first paying customer to feed a New York parking meter when the city installed them that year, and the first to cross the Chesapeake Bay Bridge in Maryland in 1952.

In 1953, when subway tokens were introduced, Catan was the first to drop one into the turnstiles at the 42nd Street and Eighth Avenue station. He was the first motorist across the old Tappan Zee Bridge in 1955, the first to traverse the newly opened lower level of the George Washington Bridge in 1962 (from the New Jersey side), the first onto Interstate 595 in Florida in 1989 and the first to do a welter of other things.

Embarking on this vocation as a teenager and continuing into old age, he had bagged, by his own count, 537 firsts by the time the 20th century had run its course.

[bureau-of-mines]

Maritime Furries of The Chesapeake Bay, a 7 part HBO miniseries documenting a low to medium intensity gang war between the anthropomorphic members of various sailors and longshoremen associations in locales ranging from Suffolk County all the way up to DelMarVa and the Eastern Shore of Virginia. Series is framed around the events leading up to the destruction of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge/Tunnel system in the event commonly referred to as "The Pampening"

(Footage taken from original 1997 VHS Cassette release. Total of 8 hours, color.)

[theoddsideofme]

Good morning from the Chesapeake Bay bridge tunnel ! We doing this.

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss

Just some thoughts from Old Point Comfort

NEAR OLD POINT COMFORT, HAMPTON, VA: One of a number of small communities in the Hampton Roads region just outside Norfolk to become the City of Hampton sometime in the early 1960's, about the time yours truly made his television debut, Old Point Comfort seems to have one of those interesting sort of names about it ... and makes you wonder about its origins. Even if it requires crossing Hampton Roads via the Hampton Roads Bridge/Tunnel (alias I-64) to so reach.

Yet yours truly, as much as Huckleberry Hound, something of a compadre in these journeys of late, got to thinking in the laziness of a mid-spring morning segueing into the afternoon about the glory days of the Old Bay Line steamers (1840-1962) arriving in the early morning at Norfolk after an overnight run across Chesapeake Bay from Baltimore ... or just leaving Norfolk in the evening heading to a morning arrival in Baltimore. Pretty wistful, you might say, to little ol' Huck.

"Ahhhh yes ... just to sit on a deck chair on one of those Old Bay Line steamers heading from Baltimore to Norfolk ... especially after something of a dinner of the choicest local specialties--fresh oysters, terrapin stew, roast turkey, steamed blue crab ... kind of makes me hungry to be so yearning...."

"I couldn't concur with you more," replied I.

Whereupon Top Cat called us up from his mobile phone unto ours. It may not have been a treasure-seeking assignment for the Jolly Rodger, since repurposed to serve Peter Potamus' Magic Divers, but to have such come "out of the blue," and three hours behind us--

"Welllll, hello Snagglepuss, you old charmer!" was how TC started things along. "How goes it there on the road?"

"I certainly have to admit, speaking from Old Point Comfort--"

"Obviously unrelated to Southern Comfort" was how TC rejoindered that remark, to which I replied "It's just outside Norfolk," for which TC quickly apologised for the humourous misunderstanding. "But at any rate, I understand you paid homage to a certain photograph of one O. Winston Link out Luray way--"

"Correct, TC ... and if I may say so, for some reason or another, the thought came across my mind of maybe having one of our Character Convocations in some small-town July 4th celebration."

"Now THAT would have to be an interesting prospect, especially where the boys can get some meet-and-greet time, yours truly included, no doubt!"

"You still recall the July 4th parade in Bristol, Rhode Island a few years back?"

"Now that you bring that up--"

I handed the phone to Huck, who responded, "Now we were thinking of hosting such somewhere in the Midwest, somewhere a little on the Middle American side."

"Without, I hope, tasteless propaganda overtures as could play--"

"After all, TC, we Funtastics can't help but be the sort to show warmth and good feelings. Especially when we have our Character Convocations, replete with plenty of meet-and-greet opportunities ensuing as much as some convocative time among us...."

(You can imagine how the conversation ensued, but I don't think you'd want to hear further, as such would be unlikely to interest you, the average Old Hanna-Barberian.)

"So where to next, Snag?"

"Make it a surprise."

*************

@warnerbrosentertainment @iheartgod175 @jellystone-enjoyer @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @funtasticworld @archive-archives @themineralyoucrave @thylordshipofbutts @screamingtoosoftly @thebigdingle @warnerbros-blog1 @groovybribri @indigo-corvus @theweekenddigest @zodiacfan32 @warnerbrosent-blog

[aloha-eloha]

Mission (or transmission) success!

Running on a little under three hours sleep, and with the steadfast help of my mother, I made it to the Eastern Shore in time to have my cellular plan transmitted — I am now officially a Raëlian! The gathering was scheduled to begin at 2pm so we left a little after 8am in order to get there with plenty of time to spare. As referenced I had an absolutely atrocious night but I still woke up two minutes before my alarm, showered, dressed, gathered the necessary things (wallet, lunchbag, massive water bottles filled with ice water, a pen to sign the Act of Apostasy, Füm, folding chair, etc) and put them in the car, and generally readied myself swiftly. Much to my chagrin I tried to apply two separate nicotine patches and neither one stayed on — I ended up buying a pack of menthols at Sheetz in the morning so I could get my nicotine fix and not be on edge or unpleasant leading up to/during my baptism. Not great, of course, as I’d been doing pretty well on cutting back on cigarettes and intended for this to be my first fully cigarette-free day since I was in the psych ward the January before last.

But oh well. Necessary!

For breakfast I had half a tub of delicious jalapeño poppers courtesy of Sheetz, and then we were en route for Nassawadox. The plan was to listen to the first book in Naomi Novik’s Temeraire series while on the way but we listened to music for an hour or so first while my phone charged, then switched to the book — and frankly the book is so good I regret, to an extent, that lost hour. Rather uncharacteristically I grew anxious as we drew closer to the Eastern Shore: I was distressed by the Subaru’s usual habit of briefly turning off the engine if we stopped for too long (remembering an occasion not too long ago when it refused to turn back on while we were at a stoplight), and as we crossed the water on various long bridges and under tunnels I grew ever more anxious that we would get stuck or something would collapse. This detracted from my ability to enjoy the objectively pleasant views as we drove and I ended up chainsmoking a little to calm my nerves.

Despite an unexpected road closure we still made it there with an hour to spare. Although I hadn’t been looking forward to an outdoors ceremony in the August heat we were in luck — the sky was overcast, with no baking sun, and our closeness to the Chesapeake Bay kept the temperature relatively pleasant and mild. We killed time driving around a little and listening to the book before making our way to the nature preserve. As it turned out I was the only person who RSVP’d so it was just me, the guide, and his wife, who acted as witness and documentarian. The itinerary originally was to do a meditation first and then do the transmission at 3pm, before walking the nature trail and playing a fun game of pétanque.

This did not strictly work out as intended.

First thing’s first, the Act of Apostasy. The guide obligingly brought several different copies: one for Christians, one for Muslims, and one for Jews, alongside a declaration of belief in the Elohim intended for atheists. Since I’ve variously identified as a Christian, Muslim, and Jew among other religious identities I ended up simply using the copy for atheists — with a little strategic scribbling and crossing-out I declared that I was not a member of any other religion (anymore, obviously) and was becoming a Raëlian of my own volition. The guide and his wife both signed as witnesses. This was, in its own way, immensely freeing; shedding years and years of accumulated religious allegiances by asserting that I was not a member of any of them and declaring my final affiliation. I look forward to receiving my copy in the mail, that I may cherish it. After that was filled out and signed the plan was to walk the nature trail first to find a nice place to do the meditation and then transmission… except for the mosquitos. The mosquitos!

One of the most horrible mosquito attacks of my life. They were everywhere and absolutely ate me up. Bravely (foolishly?) I said we should push through in lieu of any other option immediately presenting itself and down the trail we went — for five minutes, until we reached a thin, elevated boardwalk over a swampy area that I gamely tried to traverse but quickly gave up after almost losing my balance even with the help of a cane. We turned back and returned to our respective cars as time passed swiftly and 3pm approached, vanquished by the terrain and killer mosquitos. After some driving around looking for a suitable place in Nassawadox and a bit of consultation we decided to go to Cape Charles some 20min away and do the transmission of the cellular plan by the shore.

This proved to be a fruitful decision: Cape Charles is a cute little town right on the beach and we ended up doing the transmission standing in front of the LOVE sign steps away from the bay. This was picturesque as fuck, with the sound of the water lapping against the shore, and neatly drew full circle with my ill-fated Chincoteague adventure: way back then we had been supposed to do the transmission in front of the LOVE chairs there. Truly this was a successful do-over of that tragic event. The only thing which marred the experience was that the wife, who had been tasked with taking a picture of my baptism, took photos of us before and after the ceremony but not during the ceremony. I was really looking forward to having a picture of the event to remember it by and am, I admit, still somewhat bitter. But at least I’ll have this blog post to look back on, written while the experience is still fresh. That’s something at least, right? Right?

After the ceremony — which was quite moving, and concluded with the guide whispering in my ear that “the Elohim recognise you” — we sat on some covered benches and talked for an hour or so. It was great conversation, very energising and inspiring. I was gratified to learn that there are regular Sunday “services”/meditations/discussions online, and that there is a great need for active Raëlians to help spread the message, as well as hearing a lot about the guide himself and his experience. I was encouraged to especially read Sensual Meditation and practice it and was told that as I do so my cigarette cravings will cease and my mental health will improve, both of which I’m looking forward to. Apparently only guides themselves are really held to what I’ve previously referred to as “Raëlian kosher” so I guess I’m on a good start for that eventually; and I was pleased to hear my career aspirations of hospice chaplaincy be vindicated. Very interestingly I learned essentially by accident, as we were parting ways, that medical marijuana is totally acceptable even for guides; I’ll likely be taking advantage of this.

Overall it was a great time, and it’s wonderful to be a Raëlian and only a Raëlian. Going back over the same bridges and under the same tunnels I wasn’t remotely anxious (knowing now that my chance at scientific reincarnation is secured) and could indeed appreciate the bay views. We stopped at a Waffle House on the way back to eat and celebrate — a rare treat, as there are normally none near us — and I had a cheesesteak hashbrown bowl, a glass of milk, and a waffle the size of a dinner plate. A wonderful adventure with a fantastic end, and close to the best possible outcome (sans a picture, hence ‘close’) for rehabilitating my past failure. I could scarcely be more pleased and look forward to the rest of my life as a Raëlian!

May this book guide those who recognize and love our creators, the Elohim. May it guide those who believe in them and those who remember to communicate telepathically with them, thus rediscovering the original meaning of prayer. May it guide those who do good to their fellow human beings. May it guide those who believe in what was revealed to me and in what was revealed before me, and those who are sure that scientific reincarnation is a reality. All such people have a guide and an aim in life, and are happy. (Intelligent Design, pg. 213)

[horsemage]

When I called my friend earlier today she was crossing the chesapeake bay bridge tunnel and warned me the signal might drop so I immediately picked up my phone to see how long the bridge is…..and hit the end call button as soon as my finger touched the screen. I tried to call her back but it didn’t ring through so I had to wait like fifteen minutes before she could call me back to laugh at me for hanging up on her 🥲

[exitrealtycentral]

Norfolk, Virginia Willoughby is a extremely cool neighborhood! It’s West of Ocean View, South of the Chesapeake Bay,  East of the Hampton Roads Bay Bridge Tunnel and more Chesapeake Bay, and North of Willoughby Bay and Naval Station Norfolk. Those are some basics. Willoughby is a very striking land feature because it’s a spit! It is […]

See More Information at https://is.gd/wUtgdL

[jthume]

Day 14 of the BAT

There are no new pictures today (Thursday, May 9) because your Ansel Adams of the Freeways can't focus a lens at 70 mph, so you get a picture of me from our trip to Trap Pond yesterday. You get this pic because I didn't try to take it and somehow mess it up, obviously.

For some reason, CC and I were up at the crack of dawn this morning, and we hit the road going south on this peninsula to the mainland of Virginia, the Land of Lovers, or so they call themselves. We were blessed to have the opportunity to pay $16 in tolls to cross the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, which is a long-ass bridge followed by a tunnel, then another bridge followed by a second tunnel, then a bridge to the mainland. We timed it just right to have a ship pass over us when we were in the second tunnel. Dunno if it was worth $16, but cool beans. How many of us have had a ship pass overhead and lived to tell the tale?

Edit: CC pointed out a fact I neglected: as we crossed over this long, long piece of concrete, we were blessed to have the Chesapeake Bay on one side and the Atlantic Ocean on the other for 17.6 miles. We were also stuck on the bridge for a while due to (what else) construction. Yeah, that's a lot of water under our tires and over our head for a long time.

The rest of the trip to Greensboro, North Carolina was short and pretty much without incident, but we did notice an interesting trend with churches, and brother, there were a lot of churches on the peninsula in Maryland and Virginia, and quite a few of them on the mainland.

It wasn't the churches that caught our attention, but the fact that nearly every one of them had a graveyard*. The number of headstones varied from tax-free property to tax-free property, but a church without one was the exception, not the rule. The running jokes evolved into, "That church is not in the graveyard maintenance business."

(*For the word nerds: graveyards are attached to churches. Cemeteries are not attached to churches.)

We're debating which direction to go tomorrow (Friday, May 10), but it will be westerly, so something like it. We have also comitted to stop and take pictures because Duh.

As always, keep following along across social media via the hashtages #ccandjt and #bat2024.

If you want to help us on this extravaganza, our website has books and links to Venmo and such. TIA LYL!

[spellucci]

Hatteras Island to Virginia

Tuesday, March 12, 2024 We start the morning with a long walk on the beach.

The wind has made striking patterns on the sand.

Another historic lighthouse in the distance. I think it is the Bodie Island Lighthouse, but we never got close enough to see the signs.

We watch the birds. I had a hard time picking the one video per entry that Tumblr allows, but finally settled on the brown pelican soaring. (The videos of Dora running on the beach were really cute too.)

We pack up and head for Virginia over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. It's a long flat bridge over the water with two tunnels under the shipping channels and an arching bridge at the Virginia end.

We camp at a rest area at end of the bridge. It's a quiet area at this time of year. There are nature trails out of the truck parking area, so we go for a walk down to the marsh.

There is a historic WW2 cannon aimed out at the bay. The four-lane highway goes over it. The approach is an interesting photo with the shell at the end of the circle. But as I walked around the cannon, it was huge! Keep in mind, this is an obscure rest area on a not very traveled, not divided highway. No signs, nothing. It was fabulous.

There is a long staircase up to a lookout on a steep ridge with sweeping views of the marshes out to Chesapeake Bay.

Wednesday we got up early and headed for home. We made it -- it was the usual NJ, NY, CT, MA run, so I'm not writing it up.