There are two main roads you can take to travel the twelve miles between the town where I currently live and the town where I grew up. The faster route is the interstate, a straight, flat road with a 75 mph speed limit. But depending on where in town you’re heading, the old highway can be a more convenient route. It’s a windy road with hills, irregular pavement and a speed limit of 55. I prefer it for many reasons.
The first is that I hate merging onto the interstate. It’s not too bad in my part of Kansas because traffic isn’t really heavy here, but I still get nervous every single time. Once I’m on, I’m fine. Clear, smooth, straight sailing. If the weather is bad or it’s close to dawn or dusk, I take the interstate. The rest of the time, I take the old highway.
You trade off the nicest features of the interstate, such as a passing lane and good maintenance, for less traffic, more trees, more deer, no need to merge, some hills, some bends, better scenery, and riskier passing. On good days when my car and I are both eager to go, to move, to fly down the road, it’s a fantastic drive. There is nothing like being alone in a car belting out whatever music is in your head and sorting thoughts. If I leave my car behind when I move up to Vermont, that will be one of the things I most miss.
The other day I was driving it back home after lunch in town, I was having a fantastic time. I wandered between fragments of different songs that caught my mood, carried on a conversation with myself, enjoyed the feel of the car moving down the highway. And then I saw a deer, dead by the side of the road. A few miles later, there was a white cross wreathed with fake flowers.
It is unlikely the two things are related. The cross has been there for awhile now, and the deer was new. And it’s not as though there aren’t wrecks on the interstate, or deer. I’ve had two accidents while driving–one, merging onto the interstate that left my car dented but no one hurt, and the other on a smaller highway where I lost control of the vehicle while fixing the music. Had there been any other cars on the road, it could have been very bad. As it was, I pulled myself out of the ditch without a scratch. Big roads and small have their own dangers.
So what do we do? Do we avoid being on the roads because car accidents are the number one killer of people in my age group? Do we expect each turn to carry unforeseen dangers? We have to be cautious, yes. We have to be attentive and alter. But we also have to relax and drive and move forward. Chaining ourselves back doesn’t make us that much safer, and it certainly doesn’t make life easier to live.