Vicki and I had dinner with Les last night. Les is a fellow pilot who I first got in contact with on the Piper mailng list. It was really great to spend the evening talking politics with somebody who has quite different political views without the rancour, personal attacks and childishness that drove me away from the Piper mailing list. But that’s not what this rant is about.
While we’d been at dinner, there had been a very short and very intense thunderstorm – the rain on the roof had almost drowned out our conversation. So as expected, on the way home we saw several accidents. One of them was on an extremely wide bit of road, and there were emergency vehicle blocking my lane, and a line of flares in front of them. But on the other side of the road there was a flare on the side of the road, another in the middle of the (extremely wide lane) and another at the center line. There was a car coming in the other direction, and he was coming between the far two flares, leaving an ample lane for me to go between the middle flare and the centerline flare. In the absence of anybody directing traffic, I took that as an indication that we were supposed to use the (extremely wide lane – have I mentioned that already) as one lane in each direction. And that’s what I proceeded to do, only slowing down and pulling a bit out of the lane as a large fire truck came tearing down the middle of the (extremely wide – I believe I *have* mentioned that already) wide. At this point a cop starts pounding on the side of my car, and yelling bloody murder at me. Evidently I was supposed to just *know* what to do, probably by mental telepathy. Sorry, dude, but you don’t have much of a transmitter.