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Rob Glover is an associate professor of political science and honors at the University of Maine and the co-leader of the Maine Chapter of the Scholars Strategy Network. He lives in Hampden.
These past few weeks, I’ve been driving up and down Interstate 95. If you’ve made that trip recently, you’re no doubt aware of the Mile 151 bump. If not, consider yourself blessed that you’ve not been scared senseless by this menace. Either way, we need to have a serious conversation about the bump and Maine Department of Transportation’s alarmism about this thing.
As Mainers, we are used to bumpy roads. I chuckle when I go to other places and people warn me about the sorry state of the roads. I’ve seen your potholes. They’re adorable. We have “potcraters.”
Between Mile 180 and Mile 151 southbound there were no less than three digital signs warning me of the treacherous nature of this bump. As I drew nearer, multiple orange construction signs informed me that an encounter with the Mile 151 bump was imminent.
Nevertheless, the signage leading up to Mile 151 led me to expect something different, something monstrous, something diabolical. An insatiable car-eating beast that would devour you and everyone you care about.
As I grew nearer to the Mile 151 bump, I braced myself for certain pain. Should I call my friends and family and tell them that I love them? Should I call my enemies and tell them all is forgiven? Should I call my worst enemies and put a hex on them? Surely, the end was near, and it was time to set my affairs in order.
Suddenly, I was upon the Mile 151 bump. I looked at the surrounding traffic and knew we were about to share an experience together. Forged together in solidarity against a common enemy, like the Allies against the Axis powers or Coke versus Pepsi.
Mile 151! 10 and 2, with white knuckles on the steering wheel. Every muscle in my body tensed….
Kthunk! …
… That was it?
A healthy bump, mind you. The type of thing that might lead someone from out of state to say “Jeez, these roads,” but a mere blip for a seasoned Maine driver who endures our pockmarked roads on a daily basis.
Comparatively speaking, this was nothing. I’ve had windshields cracked from the inside by Maine’s roads! This winter, I had to have a cracked tire rim welded because I bobbed when I should have weaved. I’ve run over bumps that cause my coffee to fly skyward from the cupholder and stain the ceiling of my car.
And everyone reading this has probably encountered bumps in the road that result in those sudden, involuntary floods of curse words, like they were assembled by someone with an extremely limited command of the English language.
This was not that.
So Maine Department of Transportation, I love you: Your kitschy signs encouraging safe and sober driving. I adore your stellar and culturally appropriate social media game. But the Mile 151 bump was a little anticlimactic.
Might I suggest instead one sign saying something like “A bit of a bump, bub. Slow it down, you nummah?” That would get the point across without scaring us out of our wits for nearly 30 miles.
To all the folks I called on that journey saying things like “I don’t know if I’ll make it out of this, but I love you and will miss you,” I’m fine. I still love you. But you definitely don’t need to hide those office supplies I’ve been stealing from work.
And if you’re driving south and see these signs, avoid the temptation to “tuck and roll” out of a moving vehicle at Mile 152. You’re going to be OK.