5 August 2005
A bullet dodged
Or a river forded, depending on how you want to look at it.
I couldn't see it at all: the rain had suddenly increased from "rapid" to "very fast indeed" to "Did they evacuate the zoo?" I'm in the left lane of I-44, doing a ridiculously speedy 50 mph, which under the circumstances is hazardous in the extreme, but there's this dork in an Expedition who appparently wants to ride my back bumper in the worst way.
And then the Really Large Impromptu Lake appears, straddling a lane and a half, and the miracle of hydroplaning sends me veering off course 15 degrees or so not that I can tell, because visibility beyond the windshield (which now is clean, if still cracked) is down in the couple-of-centimeters range. It takes me about 1.5 seconds to regain control and discover I'm heading for nowhere good. Meanwhile, the aforementioned dork has actually sped up and is now within biting distance of the trunk lid.
Meanwhile, traffic is merging, and having had one prayer answered, I decide not to utter the curse that's going through the back of my mind. I wish, though, that people would get it through their heads that having a sport-utility vehicle does not confer any sort of invulnerability to the slings and arrows of outrageous traffic. If anything, the SUVs are worse off, being tall and tippy devices in the first place, and seven times out of ten they're driven by people who think the laws of physics are nothing more than a blanket excuse from Montgomery Scott.
I take solace in the likelihood that one shiny new Expedition will need ten grand worth of bodywork in the upcoming months as its owner reaches his level of incompetence.Posted at 7:21 PM to General Disinterest