I’ve done my share of driving over the years and this year has been no exception, except for the ridiculous amount I’ve had to cough up for gasoline but it was my choice to travel and my choice to keep pumping the gas. There is much to be observed while driving for hours on end and with those observations come seemingly countless hours to think.
My return trip to Florida was less than relaxing because I’ve come to the conclusion I’m driving a lemon. If it’s not a lemon, it is demon possessed. I’ve dumped way too much money into this piece of junk, enough so that now I have more money invested in it than I’ll ever get out of it, I’m afraid. You’ve heard much of my complaining about that so I’ll leave it alone – at least for the most part.
My wife and I finished loading up the lemon van at around 7:00 a.m. on Thursday and first headed west into New Hampshire to hook up with Interstate 91 going south in Wells River, Vermont. Tragedy struck in New Hampshire!
My wife had already succumbed to the overpowering feelings of getting sleepy while riding. I have always said it is mind over matter and I don’t have much of a mind so it doesn’t matter. I just keep on driving and sucking up everything around me that I can and still manage to keep a car in the road.
Thursday was no different than most travels. Of course it had been raining all night, something we saw a lot of this summer. I heard one unofficial report that portions of Western Maine had received over 20 inches of rain in June and July. I think my camp received at least 12 feet of the stuff.
I was driving along and thinking about some of the things I had done this summer. One of the thoughts that entered my head was how that often on this trip through New Hampshire, headed for Vermont, I have been blessed with seeing wildlife.
Just then, I looked to my left and spotted a lone deer, perhaps a doe, standing tall in the unmowed grasses of the hillside. She was beautiful. The sun was trying to burn its way through a stubborn cloud cover and mist hung heavy everywhere. Prior to this, I had witnessed several wild turkeys coming out into the openings trying to dry themselves and scratching for a meal.
The deer lazily loped up the hillside, acting as though she didn’t want to get her new shoes and slacks wet, although I think only that that’s how I would feel trying to maneuver through that tall, wet grass.
A smile swept over my face and a warm feeling filled my guts. I quickly gave a thanks to God above for blessing me with an opportunity to see one of His great creations.
Within less than a quarter mile, the road narrowed. To my right there were steel guard rails creating a barrier from a steep bank that dropped quickly to an old railroad bed. The hillside again dropped sharply from the railroad bed down to the edge of a field that ran out to the bank of the river.
Happening faster than any human could react, I saw a baby deer stick his head out under the guard rail. It was so tiny, it was mostly hidden behind the rail. As soon as I saw his head, he moved to cross the road and that’s when I hit him.
I felt like crap! My wife quickly sat up asking what happened. There was a place on the opposite side of the road where I could pull over and did. I examined the car and as I suspected there was no damage. I immediately hustled back down the road to find the little deer.
God did I feel awful. It was settled when I looked up and lying motionless directly under the guard rail was the tiniest little deer, weighing no more than 20 or 25 pounds I would guess. There was nothing I could do.
As I returned to the highway, it took several miles to get that image out of my head. During this time, I did some thinking.
I have had a driver’s license for 41 years come this January. I tried to calculate out how many miles I’ve logged in those 41 years and needless to say it was difficult. I would guess it would be conservative to say I’ve averaged between 10,000 and 12,000 miles each of those 41 years bringing me close to a half-million miles of driving. The vast majority of those miles have occurred in deer country and this is the first deer I’ve hit and/or killed with a vehicle.
Other things that I took note of during my return trip to Florida had mostly to do with gasoline and driving related events. The highest price of gas I saw was $4.09 a gallon. I did not pay that much. The most I paid was on the Massachusetts Turnpike in Lee, around North Adams. I paid $3.94. The lowest I saw and paid for gas was in South Carolina. I paid $3.53 a gallon.
Road barges were nearly non existent on the highways. A road barge is what I call the big RV’s, campers, oftentimes rigs pulling a car behind. I call them this because too often when you get behind one you are there for miles on end trying to get around them.
I would say traffic appeared to be normal or perhaps a bit lighter than normal but what I did notice was the vacancies in the motels and hotels. We decided to stop in Winchester, Virginia the first night. It was just after 10 p.m.. I was worried we would not find a vacancy. Usually in summer, that late at night, you end up sleeping in the car.
I don’t know for sure but I would estimate the Travellodge we stayed at was half full. The second night was no different. The Sleep Inn in Savannah, Georgia, was very quiet and the rates we paid for the rooms both nights, were considerably less than I would have expected to pay.
The high price of gas may be keeping some people off the highways but I can attest to the fact that those out there still driving, surely haven’t slowed down any. I’m a conservative driver. I hate speed and enjoy being relaxed and comfortable when I drive. I can’t do this traveling over 70 miles per hour.
I would move to the far right lane, set my cruise control at about 3-5 miles over the speed limit and I am without a doubt the slowest vehicle on the highway.
This got me further thinking. Nobody pays attention to speed limit signs anymore. In all honesty, I find it frightening. Millions of drivers, of poor ability, chasing others down the Interstate, traveling in excess of the speed limit easily by 10, 15 or 20 m.p.h., talking on cell phones, watching movies, weaving in and out of traffic and basically having little or no thought as to what they are doing or whose lives behind, beside and in front of them they are endangering.
I hear talk once again of instituting a 55 m.p.h. national speed limit. Why? Nobody will pay it much mind and even if the highway patrol could enforce it, they won’t.
But think about this. If the government decided to lower the speed limit, how many millions of speed limit signs in this country would have to be changed……..again, and who’s going to foot the bill?
I am back home in Florida now adjusting to the warmth of the sun. I’ve washed the weeks of mud build-up off the lemon van and am beginning to go through the motions of returning to “normal”.
Tom Remington
