I sometimes joke that driving around lakeside is a lot like testing one’s skills in those old arcade auto play stations or a new-fangled video game, only the hazards here are real and points count on a life-or-death scale.
With my old wagon marooned in the mechanic’s shop for major repairs, I’ve been hopping on buses or bumming rides over the last few weeks, enjoying relief from the every-day vexations of being behind the wheel. It’s been refreshing to slow down my pace, gaze out the windows and placidly watch the world go by instead of tensing up and cursing a blue streak over every encounter with some roadway nuisance.
There’s the local scourge of topes, those odious speed bumps that crop up out of nowhere, unmarked or invisible under faded cautionary paint. We know they’re a necessary evil to keep wild drivers in check, but wouldn’t it be nice if they conformed to design standards, making them effective, but gentler on your car’s suspension and less likely to cause whiplash as you hurtle over the hump?
How about regular epidemics of inverse topes, a.k.a. baches (potholes)? Why do they seem to grow to the size of minor lunar craters before authorities wise up and send out work crews to perform slapdash patch-ups?
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