Turns out the turn-by-turn blow-by-blow map left out the street that the hotel was on, sending us about 10 miles in the other direction.
Abbott’s Principle. There’s a rule of travel that any seasoned road warrior knows. We’ll call it Abbott’s Principle. Abbott’s Principle is that if you urgently need directions, no one in 30 miles will have heard of the city you are in, the road you are on, or God forbid the Hampton Inn’s location.
However, if you do not need or want directions, everyone will advise you anyway.
As we’ve done for almost all of the last 25 years, we go to Indianapolis for husband’s family reunion on Race Day. Yes, we are the only people in the universe who go to Indy on Race Day and don’t go to the race.
After the race, we found ourselves in about five miles of traffic north of Indianapolis on the interstate, or log road as I like to call it. (I-65 has been in the repair stage since I moved back to Indiana from Florida in 1988.)
My brother and his family went to the race, and I wanted to call them from the car and see where they were. My brother’s girlfriend answered the phone, and I said, “Where are you in the world’s largest parking lot?”
They had just left the North 40 parking lot at the track. My brother’s significant other was distressed that we were on I-65 North and being a Lebanon native, wanted to counsel us about reaching 52 North. We were fine — we were in the three or four mile stretch where traffic bottlenecks after the race when lanes go from four to three to two. Everyone slows down for no particular reason and rubbernecks.