My mom tells me my brother and sister coined the term. It's the descriptor for a road that curves through the mountains on the way to visit Grandma and Grandpa, or to go on a trek in the National Park, or later, to go to a barn raising at the research farm where my brother lived.
It also describes the tiny stretch of S Park Dr in Wilmington, along Brandywine park. The sign says no pedestrians, no parking, no stopping, but just that half mile drive on my way between work sites was enough to transport me to other curvy-urksy roads.
The road up the hill from Dehra Dun where the railroad ends, to Mussoorie where my school was, has always been an adventure. It's the part of the long road that stops the hearts of new staff and students. As you're suffering the car sickness and vertigo you imagine being stuck up on the mountain for the rest of your contract because it's too hard to get down! The road is much improved now, and you're not as likely to round a corner and see most of the road in the valley below because of a landslide. You're more likely to come upon a shack with tin sides that sells Maasti chips and hot tea.
But it's still an adventure; one that I love. I love the way the clouds float in and out the windows in the monsoon. I love the silly axioms the road crew posted on the roadside to animate sleepy drivers. I love the hot pakora half-way up. I love sharing the road with loud lorries, wandering cows, leaping monkeys, heavily loaded hill people, looking for the elusive leopard.
Curvy-urksy will always mean "worth the trip" to me.
It also describes the tiny stretch of S Park Dr in Wilmington, along Brandywine park. The sign says no pedestrians, no parking, no stopping, but just that half mile drive on my way between work sites was enough to transport me to other curvy-urksy roads.
The road up the hill from Dehra Dun where the railroad ends, to Mussoorie where my school was, has always been an adventure. It's the part of the long road that stops the hearts of new staff and students. As you're suffering the car sickness and vertigo you imagine being stuck up on the mountain for the rest of your contract because it's too hard to get down! The road is much improved now, and you're not as likely to round a corner and see most of the road in the valley below because of a landslide. You're more likely to come upon a shack with tin sides that sells Maasti chips and hot tea.
But it's still an adventure; one that I love. I love the way the clouds float in and out the windows in the monsoon. I love the silly axioms the road crew posted on the roadside to animate sleepy drivers. I love the hot pakora half-way up. I love sharing the road with loud lorries, wandering cows, leaping monkeys, heavily loaded hill people, looking for the elusive leopard.
Curvy-urksy will always mean "worth the trip" to me.
