Still Waters Run Deep

Over the River and Through the Woods...
Well, maybe they weren't exactly still waters . . . , but heavy rains caused the creeks out here to run deep this weekend, making it difficult to get "out of town" (which consists of one "main street")—or almost anywhere else in town, as most waterways overflowed their banks and rushed across the roadways. Welcome to the land where all roads cross a creek! I usually ignore this situation when it happens. (After almost 20 years out here, you learn to live with it. But, you NEVER mess with it; you never try to cross water on a roadway. Quite a few people have been killed out here over the years trying to do just that.)

This weekend was like the others; I was busy ignoring the rain and the creeks and going about my business. My daughter came home from NYC Friday evening, just for overnight. We had no problem getting home from the bus up near Allentown. We ate pizza. We watched chick flicks. We went to bed. On Saturday afternoon, we were scheduled to attend a baby shower, locally, thank God. But, of course, the problem was a local one. The shower was about 2 miles away, and we set out, taking the back roads we normally take. The area is quite scenic—why take a main road, when you can drive up and down hills, observe foliage, and (oops!) cross creeks, right? My daughter was driving. As we approached the bottom of one hill and she prepared to make a sharp left to drive up another windy road, the one on which the shower was being held, we were turned back by a branch of the Perkiomen Creek that had crept up and over its banks was now rushing across the road. OK. Back up the hill, out to the main road after all. All the way around. A minor inconvenience.

Heading home a couple of hours later, we didn't bother with the back roads (although, trust me, out here they're all back roads; it's just that not all of them cross creeks). We had about an hour or so to get Sarah's things together and head back up to Allentown to the bus. I suggested that we leave very early and plan to get dinner up near the bus station, just in case. So, with umbrellas and Sarah's luggage in the back seat, we pulled out of the driveway at about 6:10 for a 45-minute drive to catch an 8:00 bus. No sweat.

Trying to get out of town, though, near the Spring Mount Ski Area, was not going to happen. You can see from the photo what we were faced with. Then, turning down another road, we met the same situation. This creek has a few different branches. OK. The road we finally took out to the shower didn't have to cross a creek. So, we headed out that way, to the main road, Rte 29, and north toward Pennsburg and Rte 663.

We didn't get far. After about 3 miles, the main branch of the Perkiomen Creek had engulfed the road. An abandonned truck we were accustomed to seeing alongside an old barn took water in to up around its windows. We turned around. Now what? We need to head northeast, and all these creeks seem to run north-south. By that time, we were calling friends and relatives for advice. We got out a map to see which roads crossed creeks and which didn't. We headed due west out Rte. 73, way out around the creeks, and then north on Rte. 663—probably adding at least 10 miles to the first leg of our trip. The road we took ran over the a causway for the Green Lane Reservoir, but mercifully, rose high enough above the water's surface that we ran into no trouble. I will say, though, that under the circumstances I was none too happy to see all that water around the car. Would it rise before I needed to come back that way, maybe hours later?

We finally made it out through the rain and the twilight to Quakertown. A drive that should have taken a half hour had taken about an hour. Fearful that time for dinner in Allentown was now a myth, we settled for fast food in Quakertown, and ate while we drove. One section of Rte. 309 south was closed as we passed in the northbound lanes, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Hmm, I thought. Mental note: I can't come back that way.

Not long afterward, a roadblock in the northbound lanes rose up in front of us. Detour to the east. Follow the orange signs. "How about we go to Hellertown rather than Wescosville, to buy us some time," I asked Sarah. The bus stopped at Hellertown after Wescosville, about 15 minutes later. She agreed. We were already heading in that direction, but without a map of Lehigh County, who knew if we would get there. "You know, Sarah, if we miss this bus, you'll have to call your boss and tell him you won't be at work in the morning." Sarah nodded. It will be a while before the water recedes, and that will only be after the rain stops. The thought of having to do that drive one more time this weekend was not appealing to either of us.

Long story short, the detour eventually put us back out on Rte 309 north, and we made it to Hellertown in plenty of time. Concerns about the "road closed" signs on the way down to the bus station were ill founded, as the Bieber Tours bus, more than 15 minutes late, deftly skirted the barricade. Hugs were given, Sarah was soon on the bus to New York, and I was faced with the long, uncertain drive back, alone, in the rain, in the dark. It was a thought I did not relish.

Potty break. A cup of coffee. An Eagles CD. OK. I was ready. I had to head north even further to avoid the roadblocks on Rte. 309. Then, Route 29 south, to 663, then west, and out toward Rte. 73. I found a backroad that I knew crossed no creeks, and took that about 5 miles or so back to Spring Mount. By 9:30 or so, I was safe in my own driveway, then in the house. I was one happy camper. It's funny about those creeks, I thought. You pretty much don't notice them, but then sometimes they all creep up on you at once...