Adventure Travel--crossing Second Avenue

When RantWoman thinks of adventure travel she has in mind some kine of exotic setting, like perhaps the vista with the bison in the http://backroadsmontana.com/ ads all over the buses. Little did RantWoman realize just how much adventure lurks in ordinary pedestrian experiences.

Perhaps RantWoman exaggerates the degree to which her adventures are ordinary pedestrian experiences. Consider a travelling party consisting of RantWoman and Thwack the Badly-Behaved White Cane, Travelling Buddy in enormous wheelchair, and RantMom. This expedition starred RantWoman as macro navigator (We need to catch this bus and get off here. We need to turn Left and cross this street...) and sheer dumb luck as micronavigator at least as far as finding curb cuts for the two thirds of this party who need them without tripping anyone, running over anyone's feet, or parallyzing the entire downtown traffic grid just crossing the street. Also with a cameo role, the 20th anniversary of the ADA, legislation we have to thank that there are curb cuts in the first place.

RantMom's current definition of adventure travel seems to be a Seattle neighborhood she has not visited yet and all the better if RantWoman is going there too and can be her "guide dog." Woof. Woof. RantMom is currently walking around on one new bionic knee and one old, seriously creaky natural one. RantMom has a cane. Lately she has also taken to dragging around a wheeled backpack with a fearsome but presumably stability-enhancing long metal handle in her other hand. After decades of practice RantWoman and RantMom can tango in the kitchen with all kinds of sharp objects, scalding liquids, and flammable substances, but on the street in the presence of concrete and massive metal moving objects everything that might be called timing just flies out the window. Why? Have you tried crossing the street with someone who uses the curb cuts?

On an average intersection downtown, the curb cut on one side of a street will be at a 45-degree angle to each street. On the other side of the same street, the curb cut will be past the crosswalk and halfway down the block. The likes of RantMom and Travelling buddy will thus have to weave in and out of the pedestrian streams worse than if they had each swilled a pint of Scotch before leaving the house. Travelling Buddy can see well enough to follow RantMom but not really well enough to find the curb cut by herself. RantMom finds it reassuring to walk near RantWoman, except for the part about the lethal wheeled backpack and zigzagging around trying to find the curbcuts.

RantWoman quaintly thinks crossing the street is most delightful if her path can be basically linear. Thwack the Cane mostly succeeds in preventing RantWoman from walking into anyone, but RantWoman is thinking she may just have to get some cow bells to help her keep track of RantMom and Travelling Buddy. Meanwhile, there were even more thrills and chills on this expedition.

The expedition was to Ballard. RantMom wanted to scope out the scene; RantWoman and Travelling buddy were on their way to a networking event. Arrival (48+44) was basically uneventful and we even found our way to a drug store beverage aisle before emerging as "the three Naked juice ladies." RantWoman gave RantMom some loose walking directions; RantWoman later learned that the directions were fine, but RantMom was more impressed by a fabric store RantWoman had not even known was nearby.

RantWoman and Travelling Buddy went to our event; we networked, we asked questions; we heard questions answered. We sat and debriefed at lovely benches outside the library and again in slightly less lovely environs at the bus stop. We even made it all the way downtown to First and Pine. After disembarking, we set out east on the N side of Pine street to our bus stops at Westlake or on Third Avenue. All was as lovely as 9pm downtown can be (don't push your luck) halfway up the first block.

RantMom was the first to spot the problem, orange construction markers, yellow tape, orange construction indicators all over the intersection. Alas, RantMom did not spot this until well past the halfway point of the block. Travelling Buddy has a motorized wheelchair and immediately wanted to backtrack. RantWoman herself was running out of patience and wincing on behalf of RantMom and her bum knee. RantWoman decided immediately to speed up. Would it be, could it possibly be: SOMETIMES construction messes marked as well as this one was also have temporary asphalt ramps.

Jackpot! Thwack helped RantWoman establish that yes, indeed, there was a lovely asphalt ramp on the west side of the street and the path to a similar thing on the other side of the street was basically linear. Sweeet! Almost home, well, almost....