Well I'm back from my travels up North. It was a wonderful roadtrip with a good mate. I have much to report but I will start with this because it pissed me off so much. Once I get this out of the way I will be able to relax and get into the good parts of my journey.
The highway is full of tailgaters--------
I found the constant tailgating on the road to be the biggest single piss off. I have reported these weird types of people before here on my blog. But when you travel vast distances across our great land with some strange little driver stuck firmly to your rear you gotta think What the fuck? What is it all about. It's like they are fixated with driving as close as possible at really high speeds to the rear end of your vehicle. What is it about? I've looked at this strange practice every way I am able to think of and I can't for the life of me understand what causes a person to want to crawl up and try and push their car into the car in front of them.
When we people are out of our cars and wandering around in public places we are all so polite and avoid any close contact with our fellow. We have our personal space and it is kept at all times. We are all polite with our excuse me's and sorry's to everyone we get too close to. But on the highway it's another story. It's like we forget that we are human beings. We become metal objects that roar around being as rude and up close as possible. We get pushy.
But here's the real kicker to all this. We drove thousands of kilometres putting up with the tailing masses , with huge trucks pushing us at every encounter, push push push--- we get to the very last leg of our journey and this happens:
First a huge road train overtakes us up hill over double lines on a blind curve. That driver was a total homicidal freak. My mate then reports that he has a tailgater hard up against his rear as usual-- but this one is sorta strange in that he comes up close then tails off several times and just sits on the pace. My mate somehow lost it for the very first time in several weeks and stepped on the gas to get away from the latest ratbag behind us. The road was windy and there was continuous double lines. He kept within the speed limit but the vehicle was hanging out somewhat around the curves because vans are not real handlers. This went on for about five minutes or so and then we are bathed in blue and red disco lights. Yes. A bloody cop. Busted for crossing double lines at the very last moment of our trip after two weeks of putting up with all those pushy pricks the last pushy prick was a cop.
Here's another little snippet for you:
Here's an example of truckie mentality. We were sitting at an outback roadhouse having breakfast. A solemn looking truckie was on the table near us reading the paper. The nice country woman waitress came to his table and politely asked if he wished to have sour cream on his baked potato. He didn't take his eyes off the paper. After a long pause whilst she waited patiently he uttered in a short gruff voice-- " Don't care" So now we have a new way to treat people who serve us---yes--no--don't care. I guess that means that the truckie is over thinking about things of little matter. He must be like me. I'm gonna practice saying "don't care"
Don't care. Don't care. Don't care------- Oh! It doesn't work ---- I do care.