Brace For Impact

In southwest Florida bridges are an unfortunate bain of existence. With a myriad of waterways monikered with a variety of names like bays, gulfs, oceans, channels, canals and lakes, the boats which traverse these often conflict with the roads, motorists and straight lines, thus resulting in what I like to call scary bridges. And in a recent incident, me, my mother, my car and a particularly scary bridge had a rubber meets the road incident. 

Coming west on I4, I somehow missed the sign and directions from my phone GPS to turn south on I75, automatically directing us to the unfamiliar landscape of I275. 

“Mom, this doesn’t look right. Did we miss 75?” I ask puzzled. 

“I didn’t see anything,” she replied. 

But the terrain was new and we were lost. Quickly remembering that a two in front of a three digit number was a highway bypass and noting the short descending mile markers, I decided to just ride it out and inevitably meet up with 75. 

Heading south and with the ocean to my right, I was nervous, but somewhat confident with my navigational prowess… until we saw the scariest of all bridges in the windshield. 

“Look, there’s a very high bridge,” my mother innocently remarked, not knowing that unlike most parts of my fearless existence, driving on bridges terrify me to my core.

“Mom, could we not talk about it? I don’t really like bridges,” I said. 

I don’t know what it is about bridges that frightens me, but I always picture my car careening off the bridge plunging into the water below. 

Ridiculous, yes. But for now, I told myself it was off in the distance and maybe it wasn’t on a collision course with us. But I feared it was. 

As the bridge got larger and larger in our windshield, we passed a sign that said sky bridge toll $1.75. Even the name was horrifying. 

I had the sudden urge to stop the car and throw it in reverse several miles to the last exit. But that wasn’t going to happen. 

It was inevitable. There was no place to go. We had no choice. We were going over the sky bridge. 

Brace for impact I told myself.

We passed thru the toll and facing me was a vertical incline reminiscent of a roller coaster. The difference is roller coasters are fun and controlled. This was not. 

In a panicky sweat, I took a deep breath, trying to push my concern away by having a logical discussion with myself in my head. 

Many people go over this. It can’t be that bad. You’re not going to plunge into the water. 

Except the other side of me kept chanting, who cares. yes it is and yes, you will!! Panic! Panic! Panic! 

As we continued to climb seemingly into the clouds, I held my breathe and could feel my heart beating out of my chest. I white-knuckled the steering wheel with both hands and tried to suppress my worst inclinations. But it wasn’t working. I was petrified. 

I went into flight or fight mode. My logical self knew there was only one thing that could calm me down. My reliable security blanket since childhood… music. 

“Mom, sing!!” I yelled. 

Completely caught off guard, but realizing the urgency in my voice, she stuttered. 

“What, what do I sing?” 

With sheer terror bubbling inside of me, I yelled. 

“Anything!!”

And she began to sing as I joined in… “this land is your land..”

I laser-focused my eyes ahead and kept singing. My breath steadied a bit, but as we reached the peak for the descent below, my calmer demeanor is blurried by the picture of the ground below and the thought of gravity taking my car like a matchbox car on plummeting a direct vertical impact like my brother and used to do. 

“Keep singing,” I urged as I took another deep breath. 

We kept singing all the way down until finally reached a level plane and a heaving sigh of relief. 

“OK, that’s done,” I said. 

Seeing the scary sky bridge in the rearview mirror, I made a mental note never to come on this bypass highway again no matter what. And as God is my witness,I won’t.