It wasn’t that I was running late. I honestly just usually drive too fast. So when I saw the cop – parked sort of in the ditch, with no lights on and behind an almost intentionally-placed saguaro – I instinctively hit the brakes. I was driving down a winding road that I was familiar with so I knew I had just passed the sign that reduces speed from 45 to 35 miles per hour. I had learned to drive along this stretch of road.
I charged away in my lightweight, manual, gray Chevy Spectrum that I liked to call “Junior.” While speeding along to Tom Petty’s, “You Wreck Me Baby,” I had not noticed the shower of mud flying from my cardboard-looking hub capped wheels. The thought crossed my mind to turn back, but the tires had already begun to spin hopelessly like a hamster’s wheel. I realized that turning back towards a possible cop was not an option. This road was not about to let me maneuver a three-point-turn-about either.
Keep It on the Track Everyone speeds every now and then or drives a way that does not obey the rules of the road. I have a pretty good experience of not obeying the traffic laws, such as flipping my mother’s car or even speeding up to 130 mph, and sometimes drag racing on open road. After a bunch of tickets and raising my insurance rates I came to see that I should keep the reckless driving on the track. I always seemed to not learn from the first mistake when it came to driving, after my first car accident you would think I’d learn to obey driving laws. I had just got off work at 5pm and my co worker was outside smoking a cigarette and yelled out “go ahead and show me that you can really burnout”, as I got in my car, and of course I wouldn’t say no.
Adhering to speeds limits can be quite confusing. I myself have been so focused on getting to my destination that I’ve forgotten to pay attention to speed limits that change in different areas. I am for speed limitations for drivers for a myriad of reasons that I will discuss in this essay. Safety is number one and speeding is one of the main causes for accidents on the road each year. It is my belief that there are many causes for accidents such as driving while under the influence, but speeding is something we can all control if we adhere to the speed limits.
I had just gone through a yellow light at a major intersection and when I looked straight ahead, there was not a car in sight. Due to the fact that the road was "all mine", I was encouraged to travel twenty-five kilometers over the speed limit. Admittedly, I almost heard my mother telling me to slow down. After my increase in velocity, I noticed I was approaching a downhill. Since I was driving downhill, I was forced to pick up speed and I reached approximately 100 km/h.
Not innocent myself, I too fall in the category of those drivers suffering from the common disease called Road Rage. Once I get behind the wheel of my '87 Chevy Blazer, all common sense is suspended and I know I will blend in and drive like those maniacs out there that I hate and hypocritically criticize for cutting me off. To some relief, I don't drive like my dad, who will one day cause an accident because of his attitude towards safe driving. He drives 10 miles below the speed limit, and it drives me, my sisters, and other drivers mad. It's people like him that are one of the causes of road rage.
When I pushed on the gas, the wheels started to make a screeching sound, and the car went forward really fast. We have a truck parked in the drive way also, so when the car started going towards it I turned the wheel and almost went into the neighbor’s fence. I pushed on the break in time and was able to turn the wheel to avoid hitting both the truck and the fence. Consequently, after that one incident, I wasn’t allowed to set foot behind the steering wheel. I also don’t want to learn for a while, I’m a little frightened now and I always though learning or driving in period would be easy.
Caught in the excitement, I took my dad's car keys without his consent and decided to drive to the arena in Oakland with no driver's license. My plan was to drive to the arena in Oakland to watch my first NBA game with some friends. I knew what I have planned was wrong, dangerous, and illegal but there was no way I would take a crowded bus when it was around forty degrees with heavy rain. I was easily tempted to drive when my dad called and told me that he would be working overtime. Not realizing the consequences, I immediately ran to my dad's car cautiously.
Because my car needed new tires, I had to drive just below the speed limit. The treads were just about completely worn out. I guess I had the type of car that we Indians call an “Indian car.” It was a pretty beat-up looking car, but it got me where I wanted to go. Anyway, there we were, driving in the middle of the desert with the CD player going, and the darkness all around. Suddenly, a large javelina crossed the road, and I hit that wild pig with a big old “bang!” I didn’t have time to think about stepping on the brakes, because one second there was just the road before us, and the next there was this javelina.
He demanded that the golf cart be returned to where it was found, but there was a slight problem. The spring on the back wheel driver’s side had broken which caused the tire to lock up. Suddenly, a truck pulled up and the driver informed everyone that there was two cop cars heading towards the house. We then devised a plan to get the golf cart out of the driveway and into hiding before the cops showed up. Three other friends and I jumped into the passenger side in order to lift the immobile tire off the ground so we could drive away.