Elise's first triathlon was only one of two endurance events we participated in on Saturday.
The second was the drive back to Amman from Aqaba. There are two main highways connecting the north of Jordan with the south. The Dead Sea Road connects Amman with the Dead Sea resort areas before continuing to the south, hugging the fence line between Jordan and Israel, and ending at the port city of Aqaba on the Red Sea. The Desert Road is a straight shot from Amman to Aqaba. As such it is about 30 to 45 minutes faster than the Dead Sea Road, even though it is constantly under construction and passes through several small towns which necessitate slowing down for speed bumps and children and small dogs sprinting across the highway between speeding cars.
Since Aqaba is the port city, the Desert Road is heavily used by tractor trailers hauling goods from the port to Amman and points beyond. When parts of the Desert Road are torn up by construction, the going can be harrowing (at one point yesterday, as Elise will attest, we went to pass a car only to find four eighteen wheelers abreast of one another barreling towards us in the opposite direction). We had planned to use the Dead Sea Road, even though the trip was a little longer, because the going is much safer, but the Dead Sea Road closed on Thursday night, right before we planned to leave, and doesn't look like it will be re-opening any time soon.
As mentioned in the last post, Thursday brought the first rain of the year. Last year, the first rain was a light, but cold, spittle, little more than a mist, that barely got anything wet. This year, the rain was torrentuous. Several inches of rain fell in a very short amount of time. On earth that hadn't seen a drop of moisture in nine months or more and likely had the consistency of hardened concrete. Amman sits atop seven hills. In between the hills run wadis, the Arabic word for river bed. The wadis connect with one another all the way down to the Dead Sea, below sea level.
On Thursday afternoon, the heavy rain thundered through the wadis, wadi emptying out into wadi after wadi, until finally reaching the Dead Sea, splitting the canyon asunder and gushing into the sea. Tragically, 21 elementary school students lost their lives in the flash flood which also wiped out a bridge on the highway.
With the Dead Sea Road closed, all traffic was on the Desert Road coming back to Amman Saturday night. The traffic was definitely heavier than it was driving down to Aqaba Friday morning, but didn't get really bad until we drove up behind a sea of brake lights and flashing hazards. Cars stacked up behind us and we were soon boxed in between vegetable trucks. We inched forward for a few minutes before coming to a complete stop.
We sat there for a few minutes, wondering what could be causing the blockage. Truck drivers opened the doors of their cabs and leaned out, then stepped out of their trucks and walked to the side of the road to see if they could see what was causing the traffic jam. Then, people started walking past our car. Had they abandoned their own vehicles and were now walking to Amman? It was slightly apocalyptic: rows of abandoned cars on a freeway, zombies stalking from their cars in the night.
As we sat in the highway, we watched cars pass on the shoulder, as they inevitably do. Then we saw cars get off the highway completely and bump across the desert, headlights shining to and fro as cars bounced over rocks and tumbleweeds. Then we saw cars drive down the median. Box trucks tipped precariously dipping off the pavement into the steep gravel. Finally, we saw a car drive down the opposite side of the highway into oncoming traffic. Then two cars. Three. Four. Before a whole lane of cars took over the opposite side of the freeway.
We finally decided to follow suit. When in Rome, right? We made our way to the left side of the road and drove down into the median and up onto the opposite side of the freeway, looking to make sure no headlights were rushing at us from either direction. To our right, finally, we saw the cause of the backup, a tractor trailer on its side, dozens of men milling around it as though contemplating lifting it out of the way, if that were possible.
We drove into oncoming traffic until we found a place safe enough to cross and work our way back on the right side of the road. We were almost home, but drove slowly the rest of the way until we got home and rested our weary tailbones.
The second was the drive back to Amman from Aqaba. There are two main highways connecting the north of Jordan with the south. The Dead Sea Road connects Amman with the Dead Sea resort areas before continuing to the south, hugging the fence line between Jordan and Israel, and ending at the port city of Aqaba on the Red Sea. The Desert Road is a straight shot from Amman to Aqaba. As such it is about 30 to 45 minutes faster than the Dead Sea Road, even though it is constantly under construction and passes through several small towns which necessitate slowing down for speed bumps and children and small dogs sprinting across the highway between speeding cars.
Since Aqaba is the port city, the Desert Road is heavily used by tractor trailers hauling goods from the port to Amman and points beyond. When parts of the Desert Road are torn up by construction, the going can be harrowing (at one point yesterday, as Elise will attest, we went to pass a car only to find four eighteen wheelers abreast of one another barreling towards us in the opposite direction). We had planned to use the Dead Sea Road, even though the trip was a little longer, because the going is much safer, but the Dead Sea Road closed on Thursday night, right before we planned to leave, and doesn't look like it will be re-opening any time soon.
As mentioned in the last post, Thursday brought the first rain of the year. Last year, the first rain was a light, but cold, spittle, little more than a mist, that barely got anything wet. This year, the rain was torrentuous. Several inches of rain fell in a very short amount of time. On earth that hadn't seen a drop of moisture in nine months or more and likely had the consistency of hardened concrete. Amman sits atop seven hills. In between the hills run wadis, the Arabic word for river bed. The wadis connect with one another all the way down to the Dead Sea, below sea level.
On Thursday afternoon, the heavy rain thundered through the wadis, wadi emptying out into wadi after wadi, until finally reaching the Dead Sea, splitting the canyon asunder and gushing into the sea. Tragically, 21 elementary school students lost their lives in the flash flood which also wiped out a bridge on the highway.
With the Dead Sea Road closed, all traffic was on the Desert Road coming back to Amman Saturday night. The traffic was definitely heavier than it was driving down to Aqaba Friday morning, but didn't get really bad until we drove up behind a sea of brake lights and flashing hazards. Cars stacked up behind us and we were soon boxed in between vegetable trucks. We inched forward for a few minutes before coming to a complete stop.
We sat there for a few minutes, wondering what could be causing the blockage. Truck drivers opened the doors of their cabs and leaned out, then stepped out of their trucks and walked to the side of the road to see if they could see what was causing the traffic jam. Then, people started walking past our car. Had they abandoned their own vehicles and were now walking to Amman? It was slightly apocalyptic: rows of abandoned cars on a freeway, zombies stalking from their cars in the night.
As we sat in the highway, we watched cars pass on the shoulder, as they inevitably do. Then we saw cars get off the highway completely and bump across the desert, headlights shining to and fro as cars bounced over rocks and tumbleweeds. Then we saw cars drive down the median. Box trucks tipped precariously dipping off the pavement into the steep gravel. Finally, we saw a car drive down the opposite side of the highway into oncoming traffic. Then two cars. Three. Four. Before a whole lane of cars took over the opposite side of the freeway.
We finally decided to follow suit. When in Rome, right? We made our way to the left side of the road and drove down into the median and up onto the opposite side of the freeway, looking to make sure no headlights were rushing at us from either direction. To our right, finally, we saw the cause of the backup, a tractor trailer on its side, dozens of men milling around it as though contemplating lifting it out of the way, if that were possible.
We drove into oncoming traffic until we found a place safe enough to cross and work our way back on the right side of the road. We were almost home, but drove slowly the rest of the way until we got home and rested our weary tailbones.
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