The local news media has intermittentently warned the residents of the Dallas-Fort Worth Area over the past year-and-a-half; we were to watch out as we traveled through the highway interchanges between these two cities, for there was major improvements being made to these paved arterials. The locus of the construction consternation and carfusion was centered near the north entrance to DFW Airport. Watch Out! Heavy enforcement, lane changes and ever changing routes and blockades - kind of like the disappearing and moving stair cases at Hogwarts.
Warning duly noted: I avoided the area for much of the construction time. Actually I never really had to traverse that mix of old roadway and cement barriers to find where they placed the improved roadway. Not my problem - until mid-December, anyway.
Inga was flying into DFW Airport for Christmas Break one clear night. Sue was otherwise occupied with work that evening, so Grant and I left early enough to get to Terminal C in time and greet her as she arrived. The trip to the airport was not given a second thought, after all, I've been driving to this location for over 20 years. Not frequently, but enough to be very familiar with it all. How hard can it be?
At least my familiarity was enough to realize that the usual exit to the airport had seemed to disappear. Grant and I were engaged in conversation when it soon became apparent that we were not going to the airport, but where headed toward Six Flags Amusement Park. I interrupted our conversation and asked Grant to fire up the iPhone in his pocket and find out where the next exit was, since we needed to make a U-turn. He quickly pulled up a navigation app and suggested we take Trinity Blvd to the South Entrance of DFW. We did indeed, and managed to park and be waiting for Inga before she arrived.
However, I do pride myself on my innate sense of direction and navigational skills and memory for topography and landmarks. My confidence now shaken - or at the very least I was curious as to how I missed the airport. Just glad those planes could find it OK. Inga returned to school in January, but departed from Love Field within Dallas, there is no problem in getting there from here.
My chance to find where I had gone wrong came when I offered to drop my wife off at DFW on mid-week afternoon in early February for a week long church educator conference in Orlando, Florida. She did take time to visit Universal Studios just across from her hotel where she excitedly partook in the Harry Potter world (here one can pay money to experience disappearing hallways and stairs, only to be amused by such quizzical apparitions). Though even there, she got stuck in midair over the roof tops of Hogsmead and had to wait for muggle technicians to whomp on the circuits to get the ride moving again.
Driving in to DFW this time I paid acute attention to the signage (somewhat poor) and the new exit ramp (partially disguised behind a multitude of orange traffic barrels) and easily maneuvered off the highway and toward the North Entrance of DFW, just like I was supposed to. There. I did it. Only to be fooled as I drove home, thinking that, like before, I exit to the east to get back home. Only now, the route home is most directly reached by the second exit, not the first exit that says "Dallas" (the other choice was to Ft. Worth, logically i chose Dallas). I took the "Dallas" exit and found myself head for downtown Dallas. Not my intention. I swore to myself, "Next time I will do better". I just need to pay closer attention.
When Sue returned from Florida, I met her at DFW that evening, confident I could now get BOTH to and from the airport without mishap. As we headed for the 16 multilane airport exits, each with a toll booth and gate, I opted to pull around a mini-bus in front of me and switch to another lane for a faster exit. My toll tag should let be slip right on through the gate. I pulled up and the gate stayed down. I looked at the immigrant who works in the toll booth and shrugged. He came out and informed me that this was not a gate where my automatic toll tag would work. "Don't all of your gates read toll tags?"
"No!! The gates for toll tags are most clearly marked. I must now take your license plate number before you can go."
With a scolding and my license plate now on file with the VP for Humiliation of Naughty Airport Drivers, the gate was raised and we were headed home. Sue saw the first exit that indicated "Dallas" and sputteringly tried to get me to switch lanes and exit. I declined, knowing from previous experiences, this was a poorly marked exit. I told her, "This is trickier that you think, if you want out get out of DFW, you have to just follow the planes - and there goes one now!" I accelerated past the first exit and took the second exit and we were home free (except for whatever fines I get for using the wrong toll booth).
Just follow those planes.
Warning duly noted: I avoided the area for much of the construction time. Actually I never really had to traverse that mix of old roadway and cement barriers to find where they placed the improved roadway. Not my problem - until mid-December, anyway.
Inga was flying into DFW Airport for Christmas Break one clear night. Sue was otherwise occupied with work that evening, so Grant and I left early enough to get to Terminal C in time and greet her as she arrived. The trip to the airport was not given a second thought, after all, I've been driving to this location for over 20 years. Not frequently, but enough to be very familiar with it all. How hard can it be?
At least my familiarity was enough to realize that the usual exit to the airport had seemed to disappear. Grant and I were engaged in conversation when it soon became apparent that we were not going to the airport, but where headed toward Six Flags Amusement Park. I interrupted our conversation and asked Grant to fire up the iPhone in his pocket and find out where the next exit was, since we needed to make a U-turn. He quickly pulled up a navigation app and suggested we take Trinity Blvd to the South Entrance of DFW. We did indeed, and managed to park and be waiting for Inga before she arrived.
However, I do pride myself on my innate sense of direction and navigational skills and memory for topography and landmarks. My confidence now shaken - or at the very least I was curious as to how I missed the airport. Just glad those planes could find it OK. Inga returned to school in January, but departed from Love Field within Dallas, there is no problem in getting there from here.
My chance to find where I had gone wrong came when I offered to drop my wife off at DFW on mid-week afternoon in early February for a week long church educator conference in Orlando, Florida. She did take time to visit Universal Studios just across from her hotel where she excitedly partook in the Harry Potter world (here one can pay money to experience disappearing hallways and stairs, only to be amused by such quizzical apparitions). Though even there, she got stuck in midair over the roof tops of Hogsmead and had to wait for muggle technicians to whomp on the circuits to get the ride moving again.
Driving in to DFW this time I paid acute attention to the signage (somewhat poor) and the new exit ramp (partially disguised behind a multitude of orange traffic barrels) and easily maneuvered off the highway and toward the North Entrance of DFW, just like I was supposed to. There. I did it. Only to be fooled as I drove home, thinking that, like before, I exit to the east to get back home. Only now, the route home is most directly reached by the second exit, not the first exit that says "Dallas" (the other choice was to Ft. Worth, logically i chose Dallas). I took the "Dallas" exit and found myself head for downtown Dallas. Not my intention. I swore to myself, "Next time I will do better". I just need to pay closer attention.
When Sue returned from Florida, I met her at DFW that evening, confident I could now get BOTH to and from the airport without mishap. As we headed for the 16 multilane airport exits, each with a toll booth and gate, I opted to pull around a mini-bus in front of me and switch to another lane for a faster exit. My toll tag should let be slip right on through the gate. I pulled up and the gate stayed down. I looked at the immigrant who works in the toll booth and shrugged. He came out and informed me that this was not a gate where my automatic toll tag would work. "Don't all of your gates read toll tags?"
"No!! The gates for toll tags are most clearly marked. I must now take your license plate number before you can go."
With a scolding and my license plate now on file with the VP for Humiliation of Naughty Airport Drivers, the gate was raised and we were headed home. Sue saw the first exit that indicated "Dallas" and sputteringly tried to get me to switch lanes and exit. I declined, knowing from previous experiences, this was a poorly marked exit. I told her, "This is trickier that you think, if you want out get out of DFW, you have to just follow the planes - and there goes one now!" I accelerated past the first exit and took the second exit and we were home free (except for whatever fines I get for using the wrong toll booth).
Just follow those planes.
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