I’ve had my car since January and although I’m fairly oblivious to most advertising campaigns, reviews of what’s hot, etc., it has kept filtering down to me that somehow I managed to buy some kind of seriously amazing sportscar. Reviewers have been raving about the engine, the handling, the 50-50 weight distribution, etc. But, seriously, I just drive the damn thing and don’t care much for the hype.
This weekend I went to Jonesboro, Arkansas. In retrospect, Jonesboro itself is not nearly as memorable as the drive there and back. Northern Arkansas consists mostly of insanely tight turns through a bunch of mountains. They don’t even use that “winding road ahead” sign…it’s just pretty much assumed that you’re well aware you’re driving on a road designed by a madman.
I started out fairly tame, keeping in mind that I’d never really had a chance to see what my car is capable of. But then I just opened it up and, after some initial fright at a couple of corners, I began making them my bitches. The fact that I had a bottle of Coke I bought in Springfield that I’d only taken a sip of by the time I got to Jonesboro speaks volumes about how it went.
And, you know, it was amazing. I’ve learned something about cars. There are a whole world of people that drive cars in a certain way to impress other people. I’m talking about peeling out, revving your engines, adding those hilarious spoilers, spinners, etc. But then there are those people that seriously enjoy driving just for the rush of adrenaline. I’ll never understand the former, but I’ve come to a great appreciation of the latter. It was just me out there in the mountains; nobody was there to experience how cool or awesome I was. It was like a really sweet car commercial - it was just me, my car, the growl of an engine, and the rush of the wind.
So, I’ve resolved to just get out and drive more. More driving trips that don’t involve just going in straight lines on a freeway!
