Driving the Interstate

Having just made the long drive back to my college town, I had the opportunity to observe some interesting phenomena of the highway variety.

It's always fun to take note of the sociological behaviors associated with passing lanes, for one thing; sometimes I feel relief at being passed by an irksome tailgater, but I may feel a rush of competition when a seemingly unworthy opponent challenges me to stay ahead. In some cases I feel almost embarrassed at being passed - especially by larger vehicles. I don't want to be judged by these rival drivers in case our paths cross again someday and my honor and abilities are questioned (my subconscious imagination goes pretty crazy sometimes). The worst is when I'm passed by someone whom I've just passed a few miles back. Is it improper to pass him/her again? Is worrying about it some kind of driving disorder? I also feel déjà vu upon resuming the trip after a stop and passing the same big rig from an hour before.

Then there's the road kill. I probably saw more shredded tires on the road than dead animals, but there were plenty of both. I saw prairie dogs, rabbits, racoons, a skunk, and a few unidentifiable critters. No deer this time, though - which is refreshing.

At one point on the drive I passed an interesting mile marker: 68.99. I thought about the absurdity of this sign for about a mile before realizing that the alternative was probably either regularly defaced - or anticipated to be so. I don't know if the state had too little faith in mankind to invest in a mile marker 69 in the first place, or had too much faith to start out and realized after replacing/cleaning the sign a few times too many, opted for a decimal change to save trouble and face.

During one of my stops I pondered the irony of a man in the parking lot who, cigarette in hand/mouth, was checking for any scuffs on his motorcycle. His [bike's] body is a temple?

Later I had the misfortune of being behind a rig loaded with hay bales - not that anything of note happened; it's just rather disconcerting to have a thousand shards of dry plant stalk hurtling toward you - but at least they don't stick to the windshield like bugs do. I also hate driving behind vehicles loaded with logs/lumber, construction equipment, and/or cars. All I can do is pray the cargo is strapped down properly and drive like mad for the next passing lane.

Between delays, construction zones, winding roads and insect attacks, it's a wonder anyone gets anywhere alive. I guess I'm okay waiting until the holidays to make that drive again - but the weather may be against me then...