Today the temperature touched the 70s. But it’s not spring, not really. No, in the Midwest it’s chuckhole season.
There are potholes, and then there are chuckholes. Potholes are no big deal. They’re about the size of a small saucepan — hence the name — and typically form at the juncture of different pieces of pavement. You can dodge them easily.
Chuckholes are a different story. They’re named after a guy named Chuck, and he was a big dude. You can’t avoid them because they occupy entire lanes of traffic. They’re caused by inattentive road crews or shopping center owners who ignore the repeated freezing and thawing process that causes the surface asphalt to crumble and produces holes that reach all the way down to the lowest level of the road grade. They’re large enough to swallow small children or smart cars, and if you hit one you’re likely to break an axle, lose a muffler, or bust a tooth when your wheel dips into the hole, rams against the ever-growing size of the hole, and shakes you to your very core.
Man the barricades and steel yourself for months of bone-jarring fun! We’ll be experiencing chuckhole season until summer, when the orange-vesting wearing guys finally stop leaning on their shovels and get around to patching them.