The Finch Formerly Known As Gold

20 April 2004

Rolling chicanes

Maybe it was the humidity, maybe it was the threat of thunderstorms, maybe it was just bad luck, but this morning's jaunt from Surlywood to 42nd and Treadmill was far more complicated than usual, owing to heavy participation by hardcore members of the Anti-Destination League, people who watch their vehicles, their whole vehicles, and nothing but their vehicles. I had to dodge (or, in a couple of cases, chevy) half a dozen of these miscreants over the eleven-mile run, and while the average speed was about the same as usual, the fluctuations were ferocious; I had to come up with a brief 82-mph burst to shake off a cluster of motorized cockleburs, something I don't much enjoy doing when a 40-mph exit is waiting for me a thousand feet ahead.

On the other hand, Sandy, the little blonde sedan who is the other half of this team, seemed happy to open up a can of Zoom Zoom on these people, and I suppose that if it gladdens her two-liter heart, it's probably a Good Thing.

Posted at 7:21 AM to Driver's Seat