This post won’t live up to its potential without photographic proof, so you will just have to trust me. For me to have not taken a photograph of this event speaks volume, because I document everything in pictures. The lack of a photo is rock-solid proof of how shocked I was.
If you want to know where the end of the road is, I can tell you. It’s in Alabama, and it’s not pretty.
Most strange of all is the fact that this road is billed as “Future I-22.” One is transported to another dimension upon exiting and realizing that exiting was the only option. There was no road on which to continue traveling. Once you have exited to the right and realized there is no such direction and a barricade prevents you from proceeding, you are forced to turn left and are then afforded a view of what can only be described as a glimpse of post-apocalyptic Alabama.
You have been taken from a brisk 65 mph (if you are a law-abiding driver of sorts) clip to a screeching halt and have found yourself on an overpass looking down at two unfinished stretches of pavement that must lead to one of two places: the past or your death. Knee-high grass covers the edges of the highway and no machine of any make or model has passed over those rugged and faded lanes in months. I have never seen a portal to another world, but I am pretty sure I went through one yesterday on “Future I-22.” I have to look back now and laugh at my own naivety. As Mapquest repeatedly instructed me to travel on “Future I-22,” I continued to think, “Aww, another quaint name for a southern road. Isn’t that sweet?”
It isn’t sweet. It’s literal. Somewhere in the past, there was a plan. This plan has gone awry.
Alabama, c’mon…recalculate it already.