I don't know what the state motto of Jersey is, but it can't be "I'll just wait for the next exit."
For nearly thirty years, I've seen this happen. It can happen on any limited-access highway in the Great Garden State. I'll be zipping along on the Garden State Parkway and as I approach a ramp, there will be either in the stripey zone next to the ramp or twenty feet beyond the ramp, a car.
It's usually a big car or a Jeep-ish kind of thing and it usually contains a middle-aged or elderly twosome. Possibly more in the car, but rarely just the driver.
This is the conversation in that vehicle:
Passenger: You missed the exit!
Driver: I know, goddam it.
Passenger: Go to the next exit and turn around.
Driver: But the next exit might not even have a U-ey attached to it. (Ed.: This is true.) And it could be thirty miles until the next U-ey shows up.
Passenger: What are you doing?
Driver: Backing up.
Passenger (shrieking): You'll get us killed.
The driver backs up and waits for the all-clear on the ramp and then they're up. Done.
I think this happens less now that we're in the Age of Magellan / TomTom / Garmin. It is unfailingly entertaining. At first it was terrifying, but now it's not.
I have not done this myself.
Yet.
Something else I love about Jersey is the fact that truckers are gamblers and that they play fast and loose with the laws of physics.
The underpass at the Edison train station is the best place to witness this.
Painted on the underpass for all to see is: Height: 12' 2".
Truckers just do not believe this sign. They think the Middlesex County Department of Transportation is staffed with practical jokers. They think that because a storm is coming and the barometer is lowered, their 12' 6" high trailer can squeeze through the underpass. The ones from Jersey think it doesn't apply to them because everybody from Jersey is Special. (The state motto should be changed to "The Entitlement State".)
It's not unusual for traffic to become ensnarled all around this underpass. There's a big USPS center to one side of the road and beyond, there are a half-dozen trucking terminals. The side streets are closed to trucks, so this road with this underpass is the only way to go. Unless you did something very smart, like turn left at the light to get to 287. If you're trying to get to Route 1, the shortest way is not the smartest way. This is very often the case in Jersey.
The other day, two very large tractor trailers were behind me. I zipped under the train tracks and behind me, I heard the squeal of rubber and heavy mechanical sounds as the trucks tried to stop in time.
I've seen semis that didn't make it, with the roof peeled back like a sardine can. Most of the time, there are at least two Edison police patrol cars, one cop directing traffic, the other one glaring at the stupefied trucker. This usually happens during rush hour. Sometimes, there's a monstrously huge tow truck at the ready.
Because there are a lot of trucks on smaller roads here, note to any drivers heading this way that you should pay close attention to those white stripes by a stoplight, indicating where you should stop.
Yesterday, I saw an itty bitty Malibu staunchly standing its ground as a many-tons, very big truck was trying to make a right. The truck had the light but the Malibu wouldn't budge. Granted, there was a semi behind it, but the semi had room to back up. Thus was all frozen until the light changed for the Malibu and it slipped past the truck.
Have you seen the cartoon of a mouse giving the finger to a hawk? That's Jersey. That's the people of Jersey. They might annoy the living daylights out of me, but I can't help but admire their moxie.
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