Chronicles 311: Don't Mess With Mother Nature

520 Bridge - mid span during high winds

The 311 story continues from the original

As I was riding in this morning, crossing the 520 bridge over Lake Washington a thought struck me. It was nearly daybreak, although rather difficult to tell through the layered windswept grayness of heavy clouds with no visible sun at all; just the black of night turning to shades of gray spattered with wind whipped rain. Waves were rising up on the south side of the floating bridge & smacking it like a boxer on a speed bag, spraying well over the barriers onto the highway. I could actually feel the road swaying below me.


The north side is usually rather placid in contrast to the crashing white caps on the south. This morning you could see wind gusts skimming across it's surface, leaving ripples zig zagging every which way. Here, the bridge is caught in the middle of a big struggle. The harder the winds blow the more it fights against the forces of mother nature.

Mother nature?

With such extreme and sudden force I saw the pavement in front of the bus explode sending pieces of pavement, concrete and cars flying into the inky violent abyss. Jets of water shot every direction as the road disappeared in front of us. Cars dropped out of sight, instant panic spread through the bus as screams filled the air. Someone yelled "We're not going to stop!" I realized that it was my own voice tearing my throat to ribbons. We were just past mid span. No way are we going to make it to the other side. No way are we going to survive in that violent swirling maelstrom. I felt like I couldn't move, like living in slow motion.

Swim?

The icy cold water makes that impossible & rips your breath away in the process. No boats are on the lake this early especially with the tossing and turning. It occurs to me that I'm probably going to die! Terror rips through my pounding chest making breathing severely restricted. I gasped & screamed to draw breath again. People were yelling and shoving their way to the exits trampling over others in the process. Fear induced brutality as one man with a gray beard forcefully knocked an older lady down and others trod upon her while she shrieked. It was the Line Nazi Lady. She disappeared under the mass, her cries drowned by all the din while humanity ran roughshod for any kind of opening they could find.

Chaos reigned over everyone just before the icy shards of lake water blasted through the windshields with such tremendous force it launched people through the side windows & doors. Looking up I saw the roof emergency hatch, leaped for it and managed to force it open as the water swirled trying to pull me down into the large watery casket that used to be the 311. With the last bit of strength I could muster, I thrust myself onto the roof gasping for air, just long enough to have it disappear into the raging angry lake. Under the waves I went, gulping a huge mouthful of black water. Something was snagging me. The 311 was taking me down with it.

I felt around my shoulders and ripped off my backpack from one arm, the other hung up on something. Trying to hold in the last ounce of air I had without succumbing to blind fear I yanked again and broke free as a searing pain ripped into my shoulder. Flailing with one good arm I tried to get back to the surface but it was no good. My water logged jacket and clothes were like a heavy yoke pulling me right down again. The next thing I knew I was hit hard on the side of my head as the bus jerked to an abrupt stop.

Lights popped in my head for a moment and the smell of diesel fumes made me stir nauseously and realize where I really was. Jolted suddenly awake, the 311 had just made it's first stop as it arrived in Seattle. Riders were rushing to get off while others waited for their stop.

April Fools!!! A burst of writing inspiration like getting doused with blast of icy water and waking not only my physical being but my mental state. How odd for so early in the morning to be so inspired as I hopped off the bus and made for my office in the gloomy gray morning.

It made me think that a tunnel under the lake might be a better idea than trying to contain the forces of Mother Nature, letting her winds blow unimpeded across the lake surface instead of bashing into the concrete bridge sections like a battering ram. Then it occurred to me, what could happen so far below the surface that it would be worth writing about?

Maybe I'll cover that next April 1st.