Road Rage

First, a hearty thanks to the woman in the cute Triumph convertible who bopped out of the fast lane when she saw me coming, and then punched in right behind me once I passed so that neither of us had to break our 80+ mph strides. I'm usually the only one on the highway getting out of the way of faster traffic; it was heartening to see someone else doing the same.

Speaking of getting out of the way... why is it that when I'm zipping up the road and I get to a clot of slower traffic it's never some teenaged girl in a spotlessly clean white Camry furnished with a white stuffed animal kleenex box cover in the back window, or some rheumy geriatric gripping the wheel in misty cataract terror that's causing the backup.

Without fail it's some middle aged man in an urban assault vehicle who is going marginally faster than the speed limit, but who isn't truly SPEEDING. [And why for goodness sake are these trucks all named either for a remote spot of North American wilderness, or for the Grizzly Adams inspired soldiers of fortune compelled to conquer same? The closest to off-road these ever get are downtown potholes and the occasional overly steep driveway. I'll grant that the potholes are all good starts on the apocryphal holes to China, but even they don't require 2 feet of clearance and studded tires.] You know the guys and trucks I mean.

My point is I paid a premium on Heidi for the specific purpose of piloting a fine piece of German engineering. I may have random electical problems, a puzzling issue with the O2 sensor and a windshield that leaks (probably due more to the giant crack the takes up all of one side, more than any design flaw). On the up side I have a car designed to inhale the autobahn. Heidi was born to zoom, which is exactly what I need when I've only alloted one hour to get myself from Santa Cruz to San Francisco in time for Community Property.

I'm not really a road rage driver. I don't throw fingers, or cans. I might curse, but for fun, not so others can hear it. However Mr. I Drive a Spot Welded Behemoth to Compensate and Wont Get out of the way is way more annoying than all the kid-in-the-backseat slapping, SuperSloppySammich chowing, cellphone yammering other drivers combined. My car goes fast, safely. Yours doesn't. Unless you've got one of those pimped out two-tone Crown Victorias for which I have the utmost respect, get out of the way.*






*In which case I will patiently follow, going only marginally faster than you (at or about the speed limit) until such time as you take a non-looping freeway exit, flip on your lights and take off, or pullover someone else .