What does Labor Day weekend mean to me? Well obviously it means sharing my glorious mountain roadways for one weekend with the rest of Southern California. And THAT means flipping off a lot of people and possibly running from the cops. I bet a bunch of them will have to take advantage of great services similar to I-55 Towing & Recovery – Crawfordsvill because they end up crashing their car and need it moved off the road.
Lets back up a little. I might have a tiny little problem with some road rage issues. Maybe. I’ve actually gotten a lot better in the last year or two but there is just something about driving ten miles an hour for fifteen miles behind some jerk who will not use a turn out that brings out both my middle fingers. I should just say, before today’s bird-a-polozza, I don’t think I had flipped anyone off in months. Like I said, controlling my rage, and also trying to not use my brakes or waste as much gas driving down the mountain.
But this is Labor Day weekend and it seems everyone in the 909 has made their way to our mountain communities for a fun weekend of throwing their trash in our turn outs, peeing in my yard, and letting their children play next to the highway. Yes, I can clearly see the draw of the mountains in the summer time. I usually try to escape the mountains on these kind of weekends. I’m fine with working all weekend, and not listening to five hundred Harley’s drive by my house.
I left my house at eleven today and the mountains were already packed with people. It was a steady chain of people for fifteen miles on highway 330 put-puting their way slowly up the hill at ten miles an hour. I mean really? If you have an eighteen wheeler and a truck towing a boat behind you (Plus the other 100 cars) MAYBE its time to use a turn out? I managed to only flip off one car on my way to work, but getting all shouty nearly destroyed my vocal chords before I even started my shift.
I ended up leaving a few hours early, sixish because my knee is all tweaked and needed a break. My drive was going just fine, not to much anger just cruising along listening to some Billy Joel at the speed limit, until I got to the upper passing lane and caught up with all the traffic.
Normally I would just pass as many cars here at 55, the speed limit, BUT I was really into singing “I go to Extremes”
And somehow I was going 65 to pass that one last car. I quickly slowed down because I really didn’t want to get a Speeding ticket! I’ve had to deal with them in the past and it was a lot of hassle. Then I saw the CHP coming at me. Uh Oh, I’m glad I slowed down. Then! This idiot in a brand new Mercedes comes cruising up behind me and passes me, in the fast lane on the wrong side of the road, almost hitting the CHP head on! Yes, this story does have a happy ending….
That CHP turned around SO fast!
I laughed hysterically at the guy in the Mercedes who had just been caught, and also made a beeline for a hidden side street City Creek, just in case for some unknown reason the cop came after me for speeding, instead of Mr Mercedes for driving on the wrong side of the highway. And he must have been going like eighty when he barreled past me.
I was just praying, as I took side streets, just to be safe, all the way home, that I wouldn’t pass that same cop at some point.
