All are welcome to join in and a list of the questions can be found here.
Where do I start? 😀
I can barely ride over them without throwing up. Driving over them is out of the question!
As a passenger, my anxiety kicks in the second I see the bridge. All sound dissolves into white noise and I’m frozen in place. My sister swears I passed out crossing the Mississippi River on the way to a family reunion, but I’m not sure if that’s true. I have no memory of it. 😀
Fun fact – I may have nearly killed my family during a trip to my older brother’s in Delaware.
Okay, it’s not a fun fact, it’s true.
It was my turn to drive, giving my parents a break. Mom and I were laughing at the crazy songs my five younger siblings were singing, and Daddy was just irritated. LOL!
I saw the bridge spires in the distance to my right, but no big deal, right. The bridge was next to me, not in front of me. I didn’t have to drive over it, right? Because roads never curve, right?
Fifteen minutes later. I realized the highway was curving toward the bridge.
I was seventeen, but had been driving a couple years, and was a good driver. (I had the Drivers’ Ed trophy to prove it!)
I quickly assessed the situation. Clicking my turn indicator, I glanced over my right shoulder… and yelled, “MOVE!” as I veered across four lanes of traffic.
It was only Grace that saved me from causing a major accident. My next memory though is still Mom prying my fingers from the steering wheel, and my sibs doing what sibs do… laughing at me!
And Daddy? Oh man! I think he created new swear words that day! 😀 😀 😀
I also fear hilly streets. A fear I didn’t know I had until my late husband and I road-tripped from Pasadena to San Francisco while still newlyweds. He was born in Frisco and raised in Berkeley and was excited to show me his city.
Though I had limited knowledge of the area, I’d read enough books based in Frisco and seen enough TV shows and movies to know the area was hilly. Not to mention Steve McQueen’s Bullitt was a huge favorite of the mister’s.
Experiencing it was a different story.
The streets felt like one long roller-coaster ride… which I also fear!
I thought I’d braved the worst after crossing the Golden Gate Bridge—no, I wasn’t driving—but after turning onto dozens of streets that declined in near ninety-degree angles, I’d had enough and refused to leave the hotel. My poor husband took pity on me and found shows and sites within walking distance of the hotel (no hills).
Don’t give him too much credit, though. Over the years, when we’d fuss and squabble, he’d always through out a, “Watch yourself. Don’t make me take you back to Frisco!” 😀 😀 😀
I really miss that man! ❤ 🙂