Says Who?

Driving home from Sheffield last night after an enjoyable evening watching Alan Davies, well worth the £25 if you get the chance to go along,however SezJez says she’s never felt so young since she took her Dad to see The Stranglers for his birthday a couple of years ago, I elected to go along the A61 as opposed to the cross country and much more fun B roads that I usually use. It’s donkeys years since I drove along that stretch of the 61 and the bastards have made it a 50 mph speed limit. Not only that, at seemingly every kink in the road they have put up “Maximum Speed 40 MPH” and at one point 35 MPH.

So there are all the goody two shoeses, driving along at 39 mph then slowing dramatically to 25 mph at every slight deviation from the straight and narrow. Of course when they get to the street-lit 30 mph zones they all speed up ro at least forty, I presume because they can see where they are going.

And I’m driving along, calm but frustrated because even the sharpest bend on this stretch can be taken, at worst, at a good fifty, 60+ in the Polo and probably well in excess of 70 in the GTi, without straying over the white line or ending up in a ditch.

So it made me wonder, was it just a knee-jerk reaction to a bad accident involving an uninsured, teenage drunk, driving a car too powerful for his limited capabilities and showing off to the gaggle of peers in the passenger seats?

Or did somebody, an 84 year old, flat cap wearing, pipe-smoking, short sighted grandpa perhaps, actually go out and drive along the road at gently increasing speed until they were either too scared to carry on, or they lost control and crashed, or thier nose started to bleed?

Either way, if there is a vacancy for a road test driver can I put myself up for it, I can even supply 3 very different vehicles to do the test in. C’mon that’s got to be worth £50 grand p.a. of any highways agency’s money.

The Greatest Love

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