2 – The Exodus of Hud, Act 1: Driving in Manhattan

Driving through Manhattan has been a dream of mine ever since I first visited in the late '60s.  The  windy, cold canyons between the rows and columns of skyscrapers; the congested multi-lane one way streets that cannot accommodate the traffic demand, and often seem to be overrun with pedestrians; the notable landmarks on almost every block; the legendary tunnels and bridges ... a transportation geek's nirvana.

And so it was: over the Pulaski Skyway (the bridge in every Sopranos intro) and into the Holland Tunnel.  Thirteen bucks and five minutes later, I'm in lower Manhattan driving an over-stuffed Outback wearing Georgia plates (MTN BOY) with the Allman Brothers blasting out the open windows.  Gorgeous day: sunshine, warm breezes, and the assorted smells of a living city.

Typical 5th Avenue intersection

Cruised up 5th Avenue to Central Park West and motored along with the Park on my right, then into Harlem and the Bronx.  Grew a little concerned in the Bronx when the roadway seemed to peter out, and when all three right lanes turned into an impromptu parking lot.  The reason?  A warehouse was advertising live chickens for sale.

Live chickens?  In New York City?

Gave me the willies thinking about Santaria animal sacrifices and God knows what else.  With considerable relief, I spotted the expected street sign: Cross-Bronx Expressway, I-95 NB, New England, next right.

Had a boring ride through Connecticut -- three lanes of 30 mph stop-and-go for two hours -- and a thrilling ride through Rhode Island on a textbook example of "How Not to Build an Urban Freeway".  The sharp curves, short ramps, and constant surprise of exit-only lanes made Rhode Island memorable; all 45 minutes of it.

At last, into Massachusetts.  A drive-by of Gillette Stadium signs in Foxboro (the stadium is not visible from I-95), a wicked right-hand turn onto I-93, then into Braintree and my interim home at the Hampton Inn.