Freeway From Hell
05/02/07 14:35
Henk and I braved
insane Los Angeles traffic on patched concrete and
grooved asphalt highways ten lanes across to get to
Palm Springs to visit a childhood friend who was
there on flight exercises with the Canadian Air
Force. Once again, I wish I'd had a helmet cam
because you wouldn't believe the hell that is L.A.
freeways. The city is all about the car - the bigger
the better - and little two wheelers like Henk are
few and far between. I felt like an idiot waiting in
traffic at a full stop breathing in SUV fumes an hour
outside of San Bernardino; but I'd have felt like a
bigger idiot splitting lanes like motorcyclists do
here. It took me three and a half hours to get to
Palm Springs on the 10 - a 2 hour drive at most if
southern California had not been overrun by cars! A
world gone completely mad - and yes, in that moment,
there I was with Henk contributing to the madness
trying not to get too mad.
I decided to do
anything not to have to take a ten lane freeway home,
so I rode south to Palm Desert and turned right onto
the 74, which snaked gradually up into the high
mountain desert. Although the air was cool as I
climbed, the sky was blue, and I could tell by the
land (and the number of retirees in Palm Springs)
that it hardly rains in this part of the world. When
I got to 4,000 feet and looked out at the desert
valley below, little toy houses and cars catching the
sun's rays and reflecting brilliantly in the sun,
apart from feeling very alone and peaceful, and very
high and isolated, I wondered why on earth the entire
city below was not powered by the
sun.
