Heading Down the Highway

The recent Easter weekend provides a good reason to offer some thoughts about Interstate highway driving.  After all, it was behind the wheel of my family vehicle (Escape Hybrid) that I spent about eight hours — one full working day — driving with my family back and forth across Ohio to visit the in-laws.

Driving, especially in the vast expanse of the United States, is all about time, space and distance.  Early on, driving was thought to be pleasurable and, to some, adventurous, if not romantic.  But those notions have mostly disappeared.  Driving is a chore for most people, a drag on their “productive” time and something at best to be endured

Which Exit is Ours?

The Interstate Highway system, launched in the mid-1950′s during the Eisenhower Administration, is largely to blame for this change in attitude.  If it weren’t for the blue, white and red Interstate shields, you’d be hard-pressed to know where you are at any given moment.  Interstates don’t normally follow the scenic route because fun has been sacrificed on the altar of efficient movement from Point A to Point B.

Driving’s also become impersonal and anonymous.  It occurred to me, maneuvering through I-71′s heavy traffic, that each car, van, SUV and truck on the highway constitutes a mini, albeit temporary, world in which one or more people are encapsulated for the duration of however long the trip happens to be.  You know nothing about them, or they you, because everyone on the road is unknown to everyone else, so it’s impossible to say where folks are headed, or where they’ve been.  This was not always the case. Back in the days of CB radio, you could chat with truckers, other drivers and overnight radio hosts and find out lots of things about your fellow travelers.  Other than a few die-hards and long-haul truckers, who does that any more?

The vehicles we pass by, whose passengers are sealed from our knowledge, are not shielded from our peering curiosity.  You can see inside most cars, which is something I do whenever I am accelerating past slower drivers. You can take in a lot in a glimpse: people eating, of course, and talking on their cell phones — sometimes simultaneously.  Stoic farmers on their way to a funeral.  Rock musicians headed to a late night gig. An estranged couple furiously arguing over children and infidelities.  Any plot line is valid on the Interstate.  Drivers text messaging, or flailing at misbehaving kids in the back seat, or spilling hot coffee in their laps are all easy to spot, and best avoided, because their cars swerve across lanes, speed up and slow down for no reason, and otherwise hurtle erratically along the highway. Give me the silent farmers any day.

Our fellow travelers may be a disparate lot, but certain habits appear to be widely shared.  One is the confounding habit of most drivers to always want to position their vehicles in the passing (a.k.a. “high speed”) lane, even if that lane is crammed bumper to bumper with other cars whose drivers previously made the passing lane decision.  The thinking seems to be that it is preferable to be bogged down in the high speed lane than trapped in the right — or slower — traffic lane, which is where most tractor-trailers labor, causing annoying slowdowns.  Many people also appear to believe that drafting the vehicle directly in front of you helps with gas mileage.  Why else do drivers tuck their front end grilles as close to possible to your rear bumper, if not for the drafting technique they saw on last week’s NASCAR race?  A final bit of driving behavior comes directly from the Grand Prix circuit: many drivers you encounter on the Interstate would rather risk life and limb than allow someone to pass them. There clearly is some visceral satisfaction to be derived from preventing that Lexus or Mercedes-Benz from getting around you until you’re good and ready to let off the pedal, or exit to find a restroom.

Interstate Highway drivers and passengers are also hungry people, or so it appears.  Normally responsible parents will load up their children (and themselves) with obnoxiously bad food choices, and in sufficient quantity, to last until the next rest stop or fill up.  Chips, nuts, candy bars in gay profusion, popcorn, corn dogs, super-sized soft drinks, bottled water, pizza, candy of all flavors: these are the staples of highway travel.  Not to be confused, mind you, with regular fare available at fast food franchises that are present all along the Interstate highway system, like bamboo. What is it about driving along the Interstate that compels a rational adult to consume a double cheeseburger, large fries, a Super-sized soft drink — and a Snickers chaser?

It’s boredom.  I think the eating — and the race car tactics — have ultimately to do with our super-charged, frenetic life styles.  We simply cannot accept “down time” at any time we are not asleep. Work (or seeming to work) expands to fill each and every minute of our waking lives, so we’ve become adept at multi-tasking, even behind the wheel of a two-ton machine that in the hands of a distracted or daydreaming operator could result in horrific crashes, injuries and death.  We appear willing to take that chance with our lives, and with the lives of others, just to stay on schedule, check those voice mails, meet a deadline or check up on the whereabouts of our children.

Technology may save driving, in the end, and free up even more time to fill.  Certainly within a decade or two, we will likely give up active driving control of our vehicles for new rides equipped with breakthrough technology that will keep all vehicles at a safe distance the way magnets repel each other.  Cars and trucks will propel down the highway on puffs of air or attached to narrow-gauge tracks. Travel will be faster, safer and drudgery-free.

Then what will we do to pass the time?  Eat additional quantities of junk food until we are unable to get out from behind the wheel? Use the cell phone to tweet someone you haven’t talked to in the past year?  Reading might work, except it looks like there won’t be any newspapers or magazines around to pack for the trip.  Converse with the kids?  Are you nuts?

I’m all for bringing back the CB radio culture.  At least we could talk to the chump who’s blocking the lane ahead.

Breaker, breaker, good buddy. Park it on the right side, over . . .