Going My Way?

Ohio: Land of buckeyes and friendly drivers.

Since I've lived in a few states, and driven through many more during my time in the Army and all of its relocations, I feel like I'm a pretty well-versed motorist. I've been in states and cities where I'm quite sure most everyone is afflicted with road-rage (Virginia and the greater NYC metropolitan area), where they forgot to test for senility after the age of 70 (Florida, south of Orlando), where speed limits are merely a passing notion (all states in the BOS-NY-WASH transverse, along I-95), and where people don't much mind if the tractor in-front of you is only going 15 mph for the next 15 miles (Ohio, Indiana, Illinois and Missouri).

So, it's refreshing - when driving long distances - that you find other vehicle operators who are well-versed and given to road-way niceties. People that move to the passing lane when you are merging onto a highway, people who blink their lights to let you know there is a state trooper just "up around the bend," and - especially nice - the unknown partner on long road trips. Yesterday I made such an acquaintance on the first leg of my long drive home.  It was a burgundy, Buick Enclave, and I think I shall forever remember the fleeting friendship that we made, heading west-bound on I-70.

If you've never experienced a freeway friendship, you should note that they start off timidly at first.  You realize that you're both going about the same speed, but one just a mile or more than the other. You both are definitely going a bit over the speed limit, but not so fast that you should get pulled over.  It starts as a bit of cat and mouse game, but turns into a mutually understood convoy, and - after a while - gives you a sense of camaraderie with your fellow traveler.

We shared the road for 170 miles (just one-third of my 561 mile trek).  When we got to Indianapolis my "friend" pulled to the right as I pulled to the left; she heading north to Chicago, and me continuing west to St. Louis. We looked at one another as we diverged, and gave each other a friendly wave and wry smile.

It's funny when you think about it, and makes me pause to reflect that we're interesting creatures, us humans. It's our tendency to communicate, to interact, to feel wanted; we do this everyday.  When it happens at 77 mph on poured asphalt, with the passing wind and the thrumming of tires to act as your voice, it's really quite unique.