Don’t Let the Brake Lights Blind you on the Way Out

Mountain Peeves
By Colleen Nuzzo

This week I’d like to introduce Fawnskin resident Colleen Nuzzo. She will be writing a weekly piece and “venting.”

Since “Bad Behavior” is already a feature in the Fawnskin Flyer, I figure I’d use this space to air my “ Mountain Peeves.”

Number one on my list is bad mountain driving. I’ve fantasized about starting a petition to Cal Trans to build a dedicated lane for minivans. Not that all people who drive those things are bad drivers, although usually, when I am stuck in a long, slow-moving line going down the hill, the parade leader is in a minivan. Meanwhile, I am still trying to locate the law requiring that minivan owners’ must be deaf, oblivious to their surroundings and unable to look in their rearview mirror.

On one occasion, I was extremely frustrated trying to get the attention of a minivan driver. Smoke billowed out from under the vehicle (could be why I use my gears, instead of brakes whenever possible). I was honking and valiantly trying to get around him, blinded by the constant glare of flashing red brake lights; afraid his car packed with kids was going to end up a pile of toasted rubble in a turnout. Did I say turnout? Now that I think about it, upon purchase of a minivan, the word “turnout” must be eliminated from the buyer’s consciousness.

The driver blasted off onto the freeway, probably gleeful that he didn’t allow that pushy woman in the convertible to pass him, and how he’d fixed her.

Another night my hubby and I were cruising up the hill with the top down. We maintained pace with the car ahead at 50 mph. Suddenly, a big truck with monstrous tires came bearing down (or was it up?) on us. It scared me silly seeing this hulk of metal looming over my little car. I finally decided that my beloved Saab shouldn’t be sacrificed as a hood ornament for a Dodge, and so we headed for the next turnout. I was just about to signal, when Mr. Obnoxious suddenly decided that turnout was HIS and he proceeded to try and get around me, using the turnout as a passing lane.

In my rattled state, I had plenty of colorful metaphors to air, including the popular mountain “F” word. (Publisher’s Note: Fooled you. Our bad “F” word is Flatlander!) It had been a long time since I had been goaded into thinking of retaliatory road rage tactics. Imagine my surprise when the distinctive truck, with animal carriers in the back, turned out to be a local! Even more astounding: a similar incident happened with the same truck, a few weeks later. While relating the story to a co-worker, I am told that his family encountered the same vehicle on the same night… same results!

Moral of the story: We all need to be more tolerant and considerate on these roads. Our mountains are beautiful, but I doubt the scenery is eye-catching on the way down a 300 foot embankment.

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This entry was posted on Thursday, July 7th, 2005 and is filed under Mountain Lake Resort.

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2 Responses to “Don’t Let the Brake Lights Blind you on the Way Out

  • 1
    July 10th, 2005 15:13

    I only have one form of human that goads me more than those mentioned. Smokers who will not use the ashtray in their car. I was on northshore, coming home from my job on Navajo – a truck in front of me dropped his cigarette, a huge splash of sparks resulted. Incensed I leaned on my horn and did not let up.
    I was tempted to follow him to his driveway and write him a paice of my mind. Do we really need signs saying “please do not throw burning objects from your vehicle”

  • 2
    July 12th, 2005 08:18

    🙂 Happens to be one of my “mountain peeves” too!

    Colleen, you have more fodder for the fire.