The great escape. That's what the road was to people in generations past. Just themselves, their car, and the road. That black streak that disappeared around the bend, over the next rise, or into the horizon. A perfect quiet, noisy in that way that doesn't bother you... four pieces of rubber on the pavement rolling faster than the eye can see; wind caressing the lines of your ride; the radio blasting your favorite classic rock song.
Sometimes, you'd be the only car in sight. Driving through desert, trees, fields of corn or wheat, or into the night where the moon and your headlights are the only three points of light you see, or notice.
An escape. No problems, save for watching a red needle approaching a malicious "E," or the occasional resistance from an engine that might need a little tuning. But everything else... money, job, school, family... just disappears behind your rear bumper like a hitchhiker you weren't sure you should pick up. It's just you and the road, and things are perfect.
But, look around today. Too many people who shouldn't have licenses have them. Too many people who shouldn't have cars have them. And the road is a place to fear. No longer a calming means of travel, it's been replaced by assholes blasting music too loudly, near-blind or inconsiderate drivers cutting you off, and never-ending construction zones manned by construction workers who don't seem to give a shit. No longer a place to escape to, but one to escape from.
Like life, like dreams... where did the road go?
5 comments:
Too true.
Yup, that is my profound comment.
Posted by Joe on October 19, 2007 - Friday - 8:10 AM
that's no shit!!!
Posted by you have no idea... on October 19, 2007 - Friday - 5:02 PM
Where DID the road go? Even the country roads are now being paved over to make it a shorter distance to get to work. The farms are being sold to make room for more roads to be cluttered. ~*sigh*~
Heh, the Road's still there you just have to dodge the cities.
Yeah, you've just been living in the wrong places. There's lots of road out there, road that is just as you describe, road where the "malicious E" has some real teeth.
One day, I was driving up top half of the Taconic Parkway, 80 scenic miles forsaken for the parallel NY Thruway. The E snarled at me that I had 55 miles of fuel left, give or take. But no worries; I remembered a Mobil part the way up.
After a stretch of cruising along, singing at the top of my lungs to The Oldies, I heard a much more vicious growl, and realized I hadn't seen the Mobil yet. But I was sure it was just over the next hill. No worries.
After that hill, and many more hills revealed nothing on the other side but yet another hill, the E went all red in the face, and began beeping along with the growl. And I started noting mile markers so I'd be able to tell AAA where I was when the E bit me. I would, that is, were I able to find a cell signal on this road of yesterday that time forgot.
Fortunately, my ride was of today, and able to go almost 60 miles after the E said it was done playing, and so was I.
Wait. What's that ahead? A Mobil?
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