Wot - No Cats Eyes?!

What they do in Massachusetts, especially near Boston, is not "driving" exactly, unless Russian roulette can be called "shooting."

IMHO from an Idaho country boy who just about peed his britches last time my bud picked me up at the airport there. 90 FReepin' mph through a snowstorm and we wuzn't even in the fast lane. Just damn.

Let’s face it, you probably don’t need power steering for long distance driving in New Mexico. Just lash the wheel into position, engage cruise control, and you’re good to go!

I can take the country route to work, if I fancy driving down a lane that’s no more than eight feet wide, hedges 9 feet high on each side most of the way, blind summits and random S bends galore, up hill and down dale, 1:4 gradients in places. At the far end summit is a hard left turn, flanked by ditches on each side. On a clear summer day, it’s perilous (if you drive slow enough not to crash into a tractor coming the other way you then have a three mile blind reverse to get to a safe overtaking spot) but darned good fun.

Since hardly any Brits switches over to winter tyres and snow chains are verboten over here, the journey to the office, despite only being seven miles, is one heck of an adrenaline rush if we’ve had a bit of snow.

I’m currently driving a Beamer 3 series station wagon, 1.9 turbo diesel, 2WD (front), plus run-flats. Power steering tuned to the point where you can make course corrections with a cotton bud. There’s no spare wheel because of the run-flats, so a huge sack of potatoes needs to be left in the back until the thaw.

Power steering is good because you need a hand free for your beer.

When you move to New Mexico, they stop you at the border, check you for contraband, then the “official greeter” comes over and yanks your turn signal level out saying “You won’t be needing this anymore!”

Or try to pass three double tractor trailers durning a blinding rainstorm with high winds with a 16 passenger van at 3am.
Those things sway like a bambo bridge. Time it right or else you become a story that fire and EMS workers tell at the Critical Incident Stress debriefing appointment.
My ass was so puckered that when I got up, it sounded like a champagne cork getting popped.

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