Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Coasting
By The Erudite Redneck
You're doin' about 90 mph on a county road and accelerating. Just as the pavement ends and the road turns to gravel, you take your foot off the gas.
For an instant, between the hum of the asphalt and the crunch of the gravel -- in that half-second when you start to decelerate -- it's like floating.
You don't touch the brake. You just coast. After going so fast on smooth pavement, feeling the gravel under your tires is a little weird, and the pliability of the roadbed, compared to the tight asphalt before, makes the steering wheel a little loose, which makes you grip it harder at first, until you adjust.
The whole truck seems just on the verge of out-of-control, but if you're an experienced driver you know it's not. You know that gravity will win out over intertia and the truck will coast to a stop -- if you just let it.
You have to refrain from either turning the steering wheel too much or keeping it locked with the truck pointed dead ahead. You have to be just a little flexible, but not too much.
That's how I feel. I'm just keepin' the shiny side up and the dirty side down, keepin' myself betwen the ditches, lettin' myself coast. After goin' 90-to-nothing for so long, it feels weird.
A little while ago, I was ambling down a hallway on campus, just outside the graduate college, where I was headed to pick up a copy of a document I need to enter my thesis in a contest. An assistant dean saw me sort of strollin' and said, "Can I help you? You look lost."
"Nope, I know where I'm going," I replied. "Thanks, though."
I'm coasting. And I don't wear it well, apparently, if even a stranger thinks that with the pressure off I look out of sorts. Fine with me. I will coast awhile longer, though.
I don't think I'll come to a complete stop, however. It'd be more like me to slip into second gear at the appropriate speed and take off again until I get back up to speed.
Coming to a complete stop is definitely not my style. Scares me to think about it, in fact.
END
You're doin' about 90 mph on a county road and accelerating. Just as the pavement ends and the road turns to gravel, you take your foot off the gas.
For an instant, between the hum of the asphalt and the crunch of the gravel -- in that half-second when you start to decelerate -- it's like floating.
You don't touch the brake. You just coast. After going so fast on smooth pavement, feeling the gravel under your tires is a little weird, and the pliability of the roadbed, compared to the tight asphalt before, makes the steering wheel a little loose, which makes you grip it harder at first, until you adjust.
The whole truck seems just on the verge of out-of-control, but if you're an experienced driver you know it's not. You know that gravity will win out over intertia and the truck will coast to a stop -- if you just let it.
You have to refrain from either turning the steering wheel too much or keeping it locked with the truck pointed dead ahead. You have to be just a little flexible, but not too much.
That's how I feel. I'm just keepin' the shiny side up and the dirty side down, keepin' myself betwen the ditches, lettin' myself coast. After goin' 90-to-nothing for so long, it feels weird.
A little while ago, I was ambling down a hallway on campus, just outside the graduate college, where I was headed to pick up a copy of a document I need to enter my thesis in a contest. An assistant dean saw me sort of strollin' and said, "Can I help you? You look lost."
"Nope, I know where I'm going," I replied. "Thanks, though."
I'm coasting. And I don't wear it well, apparently, if even a stranger thinks that with the pressure off I look out of sorts. Fine with me. I will coast awhile longer, though.
I don't think I'll come to a complete stop, however. It'd be more like me to slip into second gear at the appropriate speed and take off again until I get back up to speed.
Coming to a complete stop is definitely not my style. Scares me to think about it, in fact.
END
