A Driving Story

Do people still live in the moment?  Was that a notion from past?  Or did we just outgrow it?

Is it possible that teens and twenty-somethings everywhere are making bad decisions in the name of living in the moment?  Everyone is talking about the teen brain these days.  It makes me want to throw all the car keys in the world into the sea.  But only for a second.  It’s a reaction.

I drove through a canyon yesterday, one that I used to commute through regularly.  It’s a fun road, fun to drive, even in a minivan.  Unlike Laurel or Coldwater, there isn’t much traffic.  Just a curvy road through the hills.

There used to be two lanes going each way through most of it.  A year or so ago they changed the lines in the road, making it a one lane road for most of the distance, with just a few two-lane spots for passing.  The reason, I suspect, was to cut down on the racing.  The road was famous for racing, I learned a few years ago, after a kid died on it.

A twelve-year-old Camaro was looking for a race.  I could tell by the way it pulled ahead of me on the two-lane part of the road.  And, I’m not going to lie, I wanted to pull ahead.  I would have been able to take that old Camaro.  People always underestimate the minivan, but it has some speed.  And the driver was an amateur, a kid really.  Who else but a kid would pick a fight with a minivan?  It’s like kicking a puppy.

Two lanes turned back to one, the Camaro ahead of me, driving at a reasonable speed.  The urge to race was an impulse on the Camaro’s part.  I got it.  But the driver was still my rival.

And, suddenly, as we made our way through the canyon, we were both stuck behind a gravel truck going 20 miles per hour.  There would be no getting past the gravel truck, those passing lanes had come to an end.

As the three of us lumbered along, I’m sure the Camaro forgot about me, just as I had forgotten about it.  All of our attention was on the gravel truck.  The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

We made it to the North Valley, unscathed, and turned in three different directions.

A fitting end.

 

2 Responses to A Driving Story

  1. TC October 19, 2011 at 10:45 pm #

    I take that canyon road once or twice a week, minimum; I even stay off the freeway at the top, and go past the golf course. It makes me feel like I live in the Mountains. It makes me happy. Except for the gravel trucks, of course.

    • Chara October 20, 2011 at 12:09 am #

      I also take that road whenever I get a chance and always feel like it’s too short. But I also like driving through the valley, which is another story.

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