So, of course, recently the people in charge increased the speed limit on the 33, including the stretch leading to the 198 interchange. I still don't get it - although I'm glad they did because I've always ignored the 50 mph limit. But, I'm a resident and I know how to pronounce the Scajaquada.
Bill loves the 33. He is convinced that you must use it each and every time you leave our house and are headed towards the city. We are both obsessed with trying to figure out the shortest way to our final destination. We fight about it and time our drives. He will invariably incorporate the 33. I like switching it up with city streets and am partial to Main Street. We get giddy when we leave a function downtown with both cars so we can perform actual time trials. I speed during those tests because of my need to win. I don't know if Bill does. But, I suspect he might.
I love the 33 for an entirely different reason: Bill proposed to me as we were driving on the 33. It was just after the first curve past the airport but before the entrance to the 190. I know that sounds hopelessly romantic (HA!) but if you understood our whirlwind courtship it makes perfect sense to us.
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