Bridge to Nowhere

Just sitting down to write this entry gets my palms sweaty and my heart rate up. It seems normal that as we get older we get more fearful, or at minimum intolerant. I used to love roller coasters -- the bigger the better -- but now I get queasy on a backyard swing. But there is one thing in my life that started as a minor annoyance and has now blossomed into a full on phobia: bridges. Are you rolling your eyes at me? Or perhaps you just yelled "Me too! Let's share a therapist!"

Much of the year this problem is not so problematic, but as we face summer head-on, that means trips to the beach. While most people are cutting carbs and spray tanning, I'm revisiting Lamaze breathing techniques from over a dozen years ago. Of course I know it's for labor, but hell, riding over a bridge and pushing out a newborn are both painful and sweaty situations.

If you regularly visit the Maryland/Delaware beaches, you've likely met my nemesis, formally called the William Preston Lane, Jr., Memorial Bridge, or as like to call it the Chesapeake Fucking Bay Bridge. Even Travel & Leisure magazine has it ranked as the 9th scariest bridge in the world.

This bridge is comprised of two separate structures -- one traveling east; one west. It is so terrifying there is even something referred to as "the suicide lane". Not infrequently, some bridge head honcho will turn ONE lane on the westbound structure into an eastbound lane so you are pretty much traveling into head-on traffic 186 feet in the air. I'm nauseous right now.

The Chesapeake Bay Bridge

My first memory of any type of bridge anxiety was in 1991. I remember specifically because my then boyfriend (now husband) and I were crossing the Delaware Memorial Bridge on our way to NYC. While on the bridge his head and eyes were swiveling from the road to me, over and over. And while I may have been rather pleasant to look at in 1991, this doesn't explain why he was multitasking on a bridge. Shouldn't he be white-knuckled and laser-focused? It didn't help that Eddie he had previously and casually mentioned he wasn't the best driver, but had, in his mind, cleverly narrowed down his issues to three:

1. Driving too fast
2. Following too close to the car in front of him
3. Not paying attention

Wow, did I feel comforted. Not.

Over the years, I've become a master of avoidance and willingly take the backseat if it's an option. However, if I'm in the passenger seat, I'll dive into a dozen Words With Friends moves during the nearly 5-mile torture of the Bay Bridge -- keeping my eyes in my lap and continuing on with the deep breathing I started in my driveway. I try not to talk about it in front of my kids because I don't want them to develop this issue, but they all have pieced it together. 

For years we've been toying around with the idea of getting a place at the beach and for years I've been trying to figure out how I can get down there if my husband isn't able to go with us.

Turns out that for $25 my prayers have been answered! There is a private company called Kent Island Express (kentislandexpress.com) that will drive you in your car from one side to the other. They have helped out 5,800 people! Gephyrophobics unite!! They hire drivers who are upbeat and will talk about anything but the bridge. I don't know if I'm over the moon at finding them or pissed I didn't know about them sooner. In any case, consider them hired and on my Christmas card list. 

I'm sorry to run, but there must be some beach property that needs Googling.