Checking six. 11/17/2006
I was on my usual run in to work this morning. I’ve been sent on temporary detachment from the tower to a site, and it’s a 35 kilometer run one way. The journey is spent almost all the way on highway, and the roads are good, and the tarmac fresh. Ideal high speed run material. Which is what I usually find myself doing, since for some strange reason, I’ve been waking up late the past week.
I usually run along the highway at something like 130 to 145 km/h. A nice, slow, loafing, speed for me. Fast enough to keep you alert, slow enough to be relaxing. The posted speed limit is 110 km/h. As I mentioned in conversation to someone a few days ago, I do break the speed limit every day. But, I don’t do it in a dangerous manner, or inconvenience other road users with my riding.
So why is that this morning, an idiot in an MPV, with his family and kids in the back, felt obliged to sit 6 inches from my arse, at 90 miles an hour? I was riding along, minding my own business, when I could feel the pressure push from a vehicle behind me. I glanced in my mirrors, and saw them filled with MPV grille. This twat was right behind me, very, very close indeed.
I whacked open the throttle, and zoomed up the highway. When I had created some distance between him and me, I returned to my normal speed. Not even 3 kilometers down the road, he was right up my arse again. I did the same thing. He caught up again. He obviously wasn’t getting the point that we were both speeding, and that I could leave him for dust anytime I so chose.
I moved over to the left, and he went past. He weaved between cars, overtaking on the left. And then suddenly moved over into the middle lane, where I was, and slowed up. This guy was being a wanker of the highest order. I moved over to the fast lane, and twisted the throttle to W.F.O. The bike responded, and we made like the U.S.S. Enterprise when Picard says “engage”.
As I went past, I saw him braking like there was no tomorrow to make the exit for the rest stop. Some people need driving lessons…