Ten Minutes in America

How do you find a road out of town when all eyes are busy concentrating on the one in front of you? Driving through the Baltics has required total concentration. One reason is the lack of road signs - none for the road we were on, none for the roads we wanted to be on. Another reason: continual pot-hole patrole. In the cities: lane patrol is a requirement; they are not marked. While driving into the city of Riga in Latvia, we were passed on the right and on the left - simultaneously; we were pushed over to the far left in order to accommodate a fifth car while our tires continuously dipping into sewer drains, and we were cut off whenever our lane made the transition to trolley or bus lane. Hazardous conditions for two people who have gotten used to the epitamy of good road etiquette in Scandinavia.

Just because we made it into a city didn't mean we could make it out. "A road sign, a road sign, my kingdom for a road sign." The sign we ended up following out of Riga was attached to the back of a truck; surely he was heading to the main highway. Down a back road, around a residential neighborhood, through an area that looked deserted, where was he taking us? Ah, eventually we saw the highway. Only it was the wrong highway. Luckily we pulled over at a gas station where we were told of our mistake. Back into town to try again.

Driving just outside the cities was just as difficult. The watch this time was for pedestrian crossings - no lights, no signs, just dashed white marks in the road and a casual weekend walker crossing four lanes of oncoming traffic. Driving in the countryside was a bit easier but had its own set of hazards; bicycles. We veered, we passed, we swerved for old men who had long ago lost their peripheral vision. Other things to watch for included pieces of wood, tires and raised man hole covers, or sunken ones (never were any level with the surface).

When it was our turn to play pedestrians, we were tempted to let our eyes wander but it was wise that we didn't. Someone might not noticed two people in bright blue jackets. John's alertness saved us once from becomming stripes in the road when a car raced through a castle arch in a walk-only area.

But our glory came in Lithuania when after Kaunas we entered America. Ten minutes of flat, smooth, seamless highway. Three lanes heading one way, a grassy median, then three lanes heading the other. There was even a cloverleaf ramp. It could have been anywhere USA.

Though the road conditions in the Baltics are far from Western standards, the scenery and the people more than made up for it. Where else can you share the road with horse-drawn wagons, ancient tractors and bicycles, and look out to see windmills, nesting storks, cows, horses, endless hay bundles and a bi-plane landing in a farm field.