it isn’t a roadtrip if you didn’t get at least one speeding ticket

This is a roadtrip.

I’ve gotten more tickets on this trip than I have in my entire life prior, and speeding tickets are almost certainly the worst. Fortunately, the police officer was nice because I was cooperative, so I was only ticketed for 5 MPH over the speed limit.

Speeding tickets are demonic because of the psychological distress they give you. Immediately after receiving one, you’re faced with a difficult moral dilemma.

Do I continue to speed knowing that it’s unlikely I’ll get pulled over again, or do I slow down because the consequence of getting caught is so damn high?

Speeding is kind of a matter of principle. In my opinion, it’s like education. The problem with it is that the class must be taught down to the lowest common denominator. As sad as it sounds, I feel like kids should be left behind if it’s for the benefit of the others. Success and learning isn’t about no hurt feelings, it’s about doing what’s best for yourself to grow, and if you’re not growing because others are holding the class back, switch classes or learn on your own.

Speeding is that way too. The industrial engineers have to account for a wide range of drivers, ones who are old and blind, ones who have just gotten their license, and ones who are just plain bad drivers. That means that for the rest of us, who are at least average drivers, the speed limit is more “limiting” than safe. As far as I’m concerned, if I can drive 30 mph above the speed limit safely, then I should be able to. Of course the question of whether we can judge our own capabilities accurately is standing staunchly in the way — staff in one hand, sword in the other, yelling, open-mouthed “you shall not pass”.

And my response is rather poor, except to say that speed limits are more dangerous than not becasue if I’m forced to drive under the speed limit, I get bored, and if I’m bored, I’m more likely to fall asleep or play with my phone, rather than pay attention to the road. Which is more dangerous? An attentive driver or an inattentive one? Touché.

I drove a lot today, and frankly that’s what most of the trip has been so far. Today was particularly eventful in the car. In addition to receiving a speeding ticket, I drove through a tree, and I offroaded next to a river bed — in which I almost got stuck.

I also took a ride through some beautiful redwood forests, and perhaps the most notable spectacle was the terrestrial rain that appeared to fall from somewhere mystical. Brilliantly lighted particles of dust and tree tumbled to the ground in asymmetrical movements, creating a magic feeling of some far away fantasy setting. Furthermore, you’re diminutively shrunk in relation to these enormous trees’ profiles. It’s humbling. I think all of nature is.

This article is so terrible because one cannot describe an experience one has with nature. More taboo than an affair with another woman, an affair with nature is best left as it is, to experience — not to imitate. Rather an accurate account than a fisherman’s tale is a dilemma every writer must face, and in constant demand of readership, he is often forced to the later. Since I am not obliged to such a fiendish friend, I instead opt for the prior, and in preserving such accuracy, apologize for it’s lack of character, and leave you with just one resolute phrase — not my own:

“Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.”- John Muir