Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SUNDAY, April 28, 1990                   TAG: 9004270527
SECTION: CURRENT                    PAGE: NRV-2   EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY 
SOURCE: Ned Bane
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

TIE-UPS MAKE DRIVER HOT UNDER COLLAR

Spring is supposed to be brisk at night and encouragingly warm in the daytime. But nope, not here.

Last week's weather might qualify for spring in Baton Rouge, where in both spring and fall temperatures drop all the way to 85, with a like figure for humidity.

Well, this past week was sweltering. Temperatures in the high 80s. Now this can only mean one thing: that it's time to start construction on Virginia 114 and the Pepper's Ferry Bridge. This, in turn, means that traffic will be stopped and backed up into neighboring counties.

We in the New River Valley deserve better. We deserve a real spring. Lord knows we get the short end of everything else - plant closings, lawn ornaments and condescending jokes from blue bloods in Charlottesville who haven't accepted the fact that Thomas Jefferson is dead.

But no.

Holes in the ozone have altered the fundamental laws of nature.

In our case, the axiom is: the hotter the day, the longer the wait in construction traffic. The wait also, apparently, has something to do with the number of workers standing idle with shovels while a piece of heavy equipment moves a little dirt and air.

I drive to work each morning from Claytor Lake, down 114 to the newspaper bureau across from the New River Valley Mall. My body now reacts pathologically to those orange fluorescent signs reading "Prepare To Stop." My stomach spasms, my heart pounds, my teeth gnash, and I arrive at work looking like I showered in my shirt.

This experience has no redeeming value. It doesn't even build character.

The other day, I left home, running slightly behind schedule, tie somewhat askew and hair wet. I sped down Hazel Hollow Road, along the New River. I turned onto U.S. 11, where the stoplights gave me a break, and I cruised through them in sync.

Traffic hadn't been stopped in weeks, I had no reason to suspect that I couldn't make up time in the absence of police.

Then there it was: "Prepare To Stop." Jeez. You've got to be kidding?

Nope. I'm just not going to take it this time. In refusing defeat, I whipped a U-turn and headed back the way I came and headed down 11 to Pulaski. My goal now was to avoid the metropolitan sprawl of Wytheville, so I cut through downtown Draper and into Max Meadows, then turned northward toward Bastian.

Still northward, Rocky Gap proved to be traffic-free at this time of the morning. That was a relief, because had it proved an urban snarl I would have detoured through Crandon and Hollybrook.

From Rocky Gap, I headed toward the most white-knuckled segment of the trip - the menacing Bluefield-Princeton bypass. With any luck at all, I could avoid the Bluefield-Princeton rush hour. But I think that occurs sometime in early May.

My luck held and I was able to cruise onto U.S. 460 and into Christiansburg at about 4:45 p.m., almost quitting time.

My boss didn't think that was such a hot idea. I'll never curse the snow again.