One of the best things about my new house is it is seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Yet I can be on a major highway in 10 minutes. The drive from the house to this highway is absolutely gourgeous. Old Farms and pasture land dot the hilly landscape. The road however, curves and bends and meanders along it's route.
This should not of course prove troublesome to yours truly. Having grown up in mountain-riddled southwest Virginia I grew up driving on the side of hills and mountains. I cut my teeth on good old Yellow Mountain Road (and spun a car or two around as well)near the house I grew up in. The highlight is the bump in the road which if hit just right at about 50 mph one can become airborne for a second, making an unsuspecting passenger soil themselves. Good times, good times. So you see I am no novice when it comes to twisty rural roads.
But this road, my friends, is a challenge. Many mornings it's quite foggy. You know those weird ass road signs you've only seen back taking driver's ed? The ones with slanted lines and bars and pie-graphs and some symbol of a stick figure with something poking out of it's head? Those signs populate this stretch of road. I'll have to get a manual. One part of the road had been paved smoothly and beautifully. Yet no lines have been painted on this part of the road. It's anarchy there! The speed limit swithes from 45 to "you better put it in reverse" within five feet of the other sign. Yes, it's a fun road.
Still being on the outer reaches of the metro area there are those who commute to Atlanta everyday in my area. These people have that typical Atlanta "drive pedal-down until something stops you" mindset that you must have for survival on the interstates. These are the people sharing this road with me in the mornings. These are the people about to also run over me in the morning.
Mind you, I am driving at least 10mph or so over the speed limit at all times in my speed demon pickup truck. But no matter how fast I go cars are passing me in no pass zones, if they don't pass I am getting a rectal exam from them. They drive it seems 80mph into a fog bank around a tight curve. These people are my heroes. It is irritating to appear so grandma-ish in comparison I have got to admit. I figure I am still a rookie at my petite LeMans and given time I too will be able to drive like a crack-addict on a mission.
So enjoy your taunting and your passing of me while you can fellow citizens, for my day will come.
And I have to get a drivers ed manual to figure these signs out. Although I think I figured out the one with the stick figure kissing a butt and the hand waving goodbye one.