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A tractor-trailer carrying 89 cows flipped on I-285 at 3:30 a.m. Monday morning, causing mayhem during the morning commute as crews wrangled dozens of escaped cows and rescued ones still trapped in the trailer. As always with bizarre Atlanta traffic disasters, Twitter was full of information and quips.
Just before Labor Day weekend, Allstate insurance released its annual report of America's Best Drivers. In a result that should surprise exactly zero Atlantans, our city ranked 186 out of the top 200 most populated U.S. cities.
Atlanta really, really, wants to be the site of Amazon’s HQ2, but we've got some problems that could halt that. How do we fix our issues before the Amazon delegation arrives to inspect our city? Like a steel plate over a pothole, let's cover 'em up.
When a massive blaze caused a segment of I-85 near Piedmont Road to collapse, Atlantans were stunned. We still don't know what the future holds, but we're armed with plenty of memes.
Reasonable proposals have emerged—more bike lanes, the Atlanta BeltLine—to help relieve congestion. But local politicians also have come up with some wacky ideas for easing gridlock’s grip on the region.
The absolute worst part about my otherwise enviable job? Parking. Depending on where I go, I’m left to navigate wonky meters, spiral-of-death garages (Empire State South), ridiculously steep terrain (Bell Street Burritos in south Buckhead), and dark, suspicious lots (basically everywhere in Little Five Points and East Atlanta).
Atlantans spend a lot of time in cars—30.1 minutes each time we drive to work. That’s more than any other major city except New York, D.C., and Chicago. When you can’t move, use the delay to exercise. Personal trainer Carlos Jordan of Buckhead’s Ultimate Bodies by Carlos suggests trying the following exercises (but only when you’re at a complete stop!)
I’ve been riding to and from work several days per week since May. Everything they tell you about the benefits of cycle commuting is true: I’ve lost eleven pounds, my back and neck are no longer stiff at the end of the workday, my posture has improved, my resting heart rate has dropped, and I’m saving gas money. Oh, and chicks dig it. And by chicks, I mean my four- and one-year-old daughters, who cheer when they see me on a bike.