Good morning, mountain commuters! Roads in our hills will offer few thrills today, in spite of the chill. It’s very cold (well… in a relative sense… it’s very cold to SOUTHERN CALIFORNIANS. Temps in the high 20’s are tank-top and flip-flop weather to hardier types in other parts of the country), but very dry… there is no ice on the road. Also, today offers no fog, no rain, no wind, and no rocks. Tomorrow’s forecast calls for a lot of that stuff, but today, the only “weather” is gentle and dry.
As of 530AM, there was a guy on the downhill side of Highway 18, halfway between the two ends of Waterman Canyon Road, who’s dealing with a flat tire. He could be there for a while, so just keep an eye out for that white utility van.
But, really, other than that, it’s a slow day… so, since it has been a while since anybody’s jumped up onto my lap while I sit in front of the fireplace, let’s just do random story time.
Teenagers are idiots. I know, that might sound a little harsh, but I was a teenager for about seven years, and during that time, most of my accomplices, co-conspirators and collaborators were in the same category… all of us were idiots. Okay, maybe, possibly, there are SOME teenagers who are not idiots, but I’m talking about me and MY crowd… if we were representative of teenagers, then all teenagers are idiots.
So, I was driving along this country road one evening. It was a road well known to me, and my favorite part was this perfect rise that made an excellent ramp; one which, with sufficient speed, would launch a car into the air, giving the driver a very Hollywood-stuntman moment. The landing-zone area even sloped nicely, making the return to terra firma as gentle as a kitten pouncing onto a pillow.
Now, you must understand… this track of road with its excellent rise and ramp, was well worn by me and my car; we had experienced great Hollywood stuntman moments many times there. At 50 MPH, it was great… and 60 MPH was even better. Then, just as I had suspected, 70 MPH was even bigger, even better, even farther… But, wow, 80 MPH provided enough airtime to really savor the wonders of flight… airtime rivaling the Wright Brothers’ first flight.
Eventually, though, the 90 MPH mark had to be ventured… and it. was. truly. amazing! I think there was more air under me than above me! In retrospect, I probably should have gotten FAA clearance, but I was a teenager who didn’t even know what a flight plan was.
(Say, did I mention that I was a teenager, and therefore, an idiot?)
Of course, the speedometer doesn’t stop at 90… after awhile, I felt that I absolutely had to experience the hang time that a 100 MPH launch would deliver. So, in the name of space exploration, I set out one evening for my triple digit sky tour.
The 350 CI motor under the hood, provided all the oomph that I needed for gaining huge momentum, so gain I did, this evening. But, while approaching my target speed, and the launch ramp, an oncoming vehicle flashed its high beams at me… How very annoying, as I did NOT have MY high beams on. What a jerk! I ignited my own high beams right back at that guy, and gave him a little taste of retinal toasting.
Though I was in the idiot phase of my life (unlike now, where I’ve become a reserved and classical specimen, a fine salt-and-pepper haired example of maturity and integrity, especially in the realm of dignified automobile management), occasionally, a very brief glimmer of logic would flicker haphazardly through my skull… And this time, I actually invested a couple of mili-seconds’ worth of thought into what had just transpired.
Traveling at close to 100 MPH, with the launch ramp that would send me into low-Earth orbit rapidly approaching, I mused… I wondered… I pondered. Why did that guy flash his brights at me? Could it be… perhaps… maybe… hmmmmmm… was he warning me of a hazard ahead? This idea began to solidify… but then, I went back to thinking about Def Leppard, and that girl in Geometry class, and how to figure out a way to score beer this weekend, then about another girl, then about acne, then more about girls in general, then something about what jerks teachers are, then that girl at the Orange Julius, and all of the USUAL teenager thoughts. Luckily, though, before the launch countdown was complete, I returned yet again to the consideration of just WHY that guy had flashed his brights at me. WAS it some sort of warning… Is THAT a remote possibility?
Suddenly realizing the distinct possibility that this was the ONLY thing that made any sense, I decided to abort takeoff (no flight plan, so no need to notify the tower), and I stood on my brakes instead.
Moments later, as I drove over the launch ramp at a serene 30 MPH, without ever disengaging from Planet Earth, I could see the hulking, dark form of what must have been the world’s stupidest and biggest cow… taking herself a lil’ ol’ nappy-poo, right there in the middle of the road. It was at juuuuuust the right place that I would NOT have made it OVER the cow, but would have placed my 100 MPH grill just about broadside, below spine, but above udders. I cannot even begin to imagine how ugly that mess would have been, but I think there’s a pretty good chance that both me and the cow would have called it permanent quits at about the same moment. How dignified and glorious would THAT be, for my obituary to note that I died because I entered a cow at 100 MPH?
I wish I could thank that high-beam flasher, that thoughtful fellow, that courteous, quick-thinking guardian angel… Without that warning, I never would have had the chance to graduate from idiot teenager, and go on to whatever came after that. It was a very sobering experience, but a very, very easy lesson. Sometimes one must learn the hard way… other times, like this time, one gets off with no consequences whatsoever. Thankfully, I realized my opportunity to accept that easy lesson as a huge gift… and learn from it all the more.
Heck, there’s probably no need to spell out a caution to others not to even try ramping their cars through the air on dark country roads at 100 MPH… but I will say, it would be an easy lesson to learn from MY experience, just in case… perhaps… maybe… you ARE possibly thinking about it (“thinking” being a word used very loosely in this context).