Hit The Road, Jack (Part One)

As for all of you, I've hit some good traffic jams in my travels. Washington D.C. comes to mind, from Dale City north to 95 to Tyson’s Corners.

You will see cell phones, maps, cigarette butts being tossed out the window and then along comes a Harley on the shoulder all the way to the next exit. That riles some folks, but hey, isn’t that just one of the marginal benefits of a bike?

It is good when you are trapped in back of a truck in the middle lane. In a five-mile jam you can lose a couple of dozen places as the right laners cut in front of a slow starting truck, mostly none use their flashers.

You would be fascinated to learn all the information you can find on the back of a truck: if you want a job you can call a number, if you like his driving you can call another, or even if you don't like his driving too.

The licence plate is from North Carolina and he has mud flaps from some service area in Tucson, you know there is a certain romanticism here, miles of stories and truck stops hidden between the flaps and the plates.

If you are like me, I awaken from my child-like arm chair travels just in time to have two other cars cut in front of me, which tells me that the right lane is closed further on down the road. Thoughts by traveler Jim Carten.