Slowing down for death

Although I live nine miles away from town, there is nothing much to slow me down on my way in. After the first two miles of tooth-rattling dirt road, it is a straight shot down state highway 17, with only one stop sign between me and the city limits. Every now and then I get stuck behind a school bus or a chicken truck, but on the average it is a 15-minute ride past cow pastures, a couple of churches and Sonny’s Famous BBQ stand.

The road is curved and hilly, which makes it fun to drive. It is also a two-lane, which means that Sunday drivers can really slow things down. If you do not want my Ford 4x4 nipping at your rear bumper, then it is best to push the speed limit—either that or drive with one wheel on the shoulder so that everyone can pass you. People are in as big a hurry here as they are everywhere else. The absence of stoplights and traffic only greases our rush.

 

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