Curves

I drive curves too fast. I believe it is my North Georgia blood that makes me make a car lean heavily to one side in a turn. After all it was some of those mountain men from a few generations back who whistled through the red clay hills and deep dark hollers as fast as they could. Sure, some had revenuers in hot pursuit behind them but still I imagine some just wanted to see how fast they could safely drive without tipping a mass of metal and rubber onto it’s side.

Having lived away from but still near those mountains for several decades now, I have had ample opportunity to return there. It seems I have determined most every way a person could drive a vehicle to get there from each direction. Each direction has it’s own set of hills and curves and challenges. Many of those times before I set four wheels in motion to get back there I was determined to get there as quickly as I could. I might pass a car only to glance to my right so I could give them a look of amazement at how slowly they were moving as I zipped past them. Then I would cut my eyes to see their vehicle shrink into a small dot in my rear view mirror. In my justified haste, I would tell myself how I wanted to get off the highways and by-ways but how I also wanted to spend time with family and friends, so I had no time to waste. If it meant I took a few of those curves a few dozen miles-per-hour faster than what had been safely posted then I likely tried it.

Looking back I realize how foolish that mentality is. It is dangerous and can be costly in a number of ways. Still, there are times now when I see a curve ahead and wonder how quickly I can get through it. There is even a fairly sharp curve a few miles away from our home. I drive it a number of times every week. Usually that curve has a good deal of traffic on it so there are times when I get behind some one then have to slow down as they hit their brakes to navigate this curve. When this happens I mumble through gritted teeth, “Just drive the curve.”

Recently, we went away for a few days. We traveled down some very curvy roads to get to our destination. One stretch of road took us over a mountain then down the other side with turn after curve after turn after curve. Admittedly, as I drove the first few sharp curves, I thought how I would love to be hitting these exact same curves a bit faster than what I was doing at the moment.

I didn’t though. I made a deliberate effort to reign in my desire to “just drive the curve”. I would like to think I have grown wiser with time. I want to believe the thrill of speed and flirtation with danger somehow has been satisfied for good somewhere. Maybe those things ring true at some level. Maybe it’s really something else.

I do know though that when we traveled those curvy roads recently I still glanced to my right during the drive even though I wasn’t blowing past a car when I did that. I also looked into the rear view mirror like I would in times past. These days when I do these things I see my wife and my daughter. When I see them I understand this ride we are on together is fast enough as it is and if I have to ride the brakes a bit through the curves we face to keep them safe and secure then I can live with that.