On a typical drive, if you head north from our area in the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex towards Oklahoma, you hit the border in approximately an hour. You can push it like a wild man and maybe save five minutes. You can go exactly the speed limit and it may take an hour and four minutes.
Regardless, you aren’t going to get there much faster unless you strap jet-propelled rockets to the car roof, and you probably aren’t falling too far behind if you slow down, unless there is a major traffic jam. In the case of a blockage, you are stuck.
A couple of weeks ago, I headed up I-35 along this track to our dad’s house in Topeka, Kansas. I started the journey in a peaceful state-of-mind, ready for seven hours of solitude, contemplation and M&M’s.
In less than an hour, I had flipped someone the bird, cursed three times, purposefully blocked someone from passing me, and laughed to myself at another driver’s outrageous behavior. All this happened before hitting the border.
The first situation occurred north of Denton. I was in the right lane, and looked in the rearview mirror. There were several cars in the left-hand passing lane, so I turned my blinker on and waited.
One car passed, then two and a third and fourth. I continued looking in the mirror and saw a large gap coming up and prepared to shift lanes. A white Dodge Challenger decided this was not acceptable. He stomped on the gas, floored it to close the opening, and blocked me from shifting over. I think he’s the one who got the finger.
The next nut case was more amusing than anything. Highway signs let us know we were coming up on road construction and must merge to the right. For anyone who lives in an urban megalopolis, you know this incites many individuals to drive as fast as they can to get as close to the merge arrow as possible, rather than gently and immediately beginning the merge process in a sane way.
A pickup truck decided this was his next step – to see how far he could get before having to merge. A semi decided otherwise. The semi-truck driver, bless his heart, took up both lanes to block the pickup.
Comically, the pickup accelerated and decelerated to tailgate the semi, I guess under the presumption that he could get the semi to move faster. That was not going to happen. This continued for a mile until there was only one lane left as an option. I smiled to myself as I pulled in behind them.
The third crazy person just so happened to be another pickup truck driver, which really surprised me. His goal was to see if he could get off on the shoulder and shoot by everyone, then bring his vehicle back onto the two highway lanes.
Again, another semi-truck blocked his efforts. He swung his rig in and out of the right lane and the shoulder every time the pickup tried to move around him. It was a dance.
Pickup move to the right, semi would anticipate and head to the right to slow him down. Pickup move to the left, and the semi would shift over to prevent that attempt. After a mile or so of this, no options were left, and again, both merged into one lane.
Car traffic psychosis astounds me. What did the drivers think they would gain by their antics? Gain 14 seconds on their trip?
It took less than an hour to experience three major nut cases. Thankfully, as the road opened up, the psychosis appeared to dissipate with it. I think there’s a lesson in that.
Regardless, you aren’t going to get there much faster unless you strap jet-propelled rockets to the car roof, and you probably aren’t falling too far behind if you slow down, unless there is a major traffic jam. In the case of a blockage, you are stuck.
A couple of weeks ago, I headed up I-35 along this track to our dad’s house in Topeka, Kansas. I started the journey in a peaceful state-of-mind, ready for seven hours of solitude, contemplation and M&M’s.
In less than an hour, I had flipped someone the bird, cursed three times, purposefully blocked someone from passing me, and laughed to myself at another driver’s outrageous behavior. All this happened before hitting the border.
The first situation occurred north of Denton. I was in the right lane, and looked in the rearview mirror. There were several cars in the left-hand passing lane, so I turned my blinker on and waited.
One car passed, then two and a third and fourth. I continued looking in the mirror and saw a large gap coming up and prepared to shift lanes. A white Dodge Challenger decided this was not acceptable. He stomped on the gas, floored it to close the opening, and blocked me from shifting over. I think he’s the one who got the finger.
The next nut case was more amusing than anything. Highway signs let us know we were coming up on road construction and must merge to the right. For anyone who lives in an urban megalopolis, you know this incites many individuals to drive as fast as they can to get as close to the merge arrow as possible, rather than gently and immediately beginning the merge process in a sane way.
A pickup truck decided this was his next step – to see how far he could get before having to merge. A semi decided otherwise. The semi-truck driver, bless his heart, took up both lanes to block the pickup.
Comically, the pickup accelerated and decelerated to tailgate the semi, I guess under the presumption that he could get the semi to move faster. That was not going to happen. This continued for a mile until there was only one lane left as an option. I smiled to myself as I pulled in behind them.
The third crazy person just so happened to be another pickup truck driver, which really surprised me. His goal was to see if he could get off on the shoulder and shoot by everyone, then bring his vehicle back onto the two highway lanes.
Again, another semi-truck blocked his efforts. He swung his rig in and out of the right lane and the shoulder every time the pickup tried to move around him. It was a dance.
Pickup move to the right, semi would anticipate and head to the right to slow him down. Pickup move to the left, and the semi would shift over to prevent that attempt. After a mile or so of this, no options were left, and again, both merged into one lane.
Car traffic psychosis astounds me. What did the drivers think they would gain by their antics? Gain 14 seconds on their trip?
It took less than an hour to experience three major nut cases. Thankfully, as the road opened up, the psychosis appeared to dissipate with it. I think there’s a lesson in that.