Left Lane

Venice or the Venetian Hotel in Las Vegas? - photo by JoAnn Sturman

Scott Sturman
fliesinyoureyes.com

Driving slowly in the left lane on the freeway and never switching to the right to allow faster traffic to pass is a metaphor for selfishness which pervades society. Forcing others to wait or to take more risk by passing on the right should be a capital offense.

California’s Central Valley is 450 miles long and home to 6.5 million people. Its main transportation artery, which stretches north to south along the Valley’s heavily populated east side, is Highway 99, a two or three lane limited access freeway. The highway is packed with trucks transporting food products from the country’s most productive agricultural area to the rest of the country. For so many people and so much commerce, the route has too few lanes and too many bumps.

Several years ago my wife and I rented an economy car in Rome to drive to northern Italy. Before leaving the rental agency, we were reminded to drive in the right lane unless passing a slower vehicle. We entered the A-1 Autostada for the 173 mile trip to Florence. Despite the low horse power engine, the car was able to travel 90 MPH comfortably on the level grade freeway. While cruising in the right lane, we approached several trucks from behind, and after checking the review mirror pulled out into the left lane to pass. As we were passing the line of trucks, I checked the review mirror again and noted a vehicle approaching in my lane far in the distance. A few seconds later I looked once again and was surprised to see that the image of the automobile was beginning to fill the mirror. The rate of closure was unlike anything experienced while driving in the United States. I slipped by the last truck into the right lane as the Mercedes roared past us as if we were standing still. It must have been rocketing a 100 MPH faster than our car, and its driver made no attempt to slow as he rapidly overtook us. This experience was by no means unique, for during the remainder of the journey along the Autostada it was apparent the left lane was intended only for passing and use by fast moving vehicles.

Driving etiquette on Hwy 99 does not exist. A substantial number of drivers enter the highway and immediately switch to the left lane and remain there for the duration of the journey whether it is a mile or four hundred miles. The speed limit may be 70 MPH and traffic flowing at greater than 75 MPH, but these drivers drive at 65 MPH or less in the left lane and never move to the right to allow faster vehicles to pass. Why should they? They do not need to worry about automobiles entering or exiting the road or trucks sandwiching them in the right lane.

We enter Hwy 99 at Fresno for the 100 mile trip to Bakersfield. Heading south the right lane is full of trucks, but otherwise car traffic is fluid at 70 MPH until the logjam. Ahead is an unconcerned motorist rolling along at 55 MPH in the left lane with no intent to pull to the right. Impatient drivers look for an opening and pass on the right between two trucks in the right lane. Ten cars repeat this maneuver, but the driver of the slow moving car makes no attempt to change lanes.

Now its my turn. There is a long line of trucks bumper to bumper in the right lane. There is no room to safely pass on the right. I pull up close to the car in front, flash my headlights, and honk the horn -- no response. I gesture with my hands and arms but get the same result. I wish I had a battering ram on the front of my car, much like the one on the galleys in Ben Hur, massive, pointed, and serrated, so I could run it through the trunk of the car and into the driver’s compartment. That would get their attention. Or better yet -- a Gattling gun like the one on the A-10 Warthog hidden under the hood of my car. After a few ignored honks, I do what any reasonable motorist would do. I open a panel on the front of my car, exposing the muzzle of the gun and pull the trigger. The target is riddled with bullets and explodes in a fireball, as my wife and the other frustrated motorists cheer loudly and pump their fists. Or the Highway Patrol could ticket these menaces, fill up California’s depleted coffers in the process, keep me from going to jail, and certainly lower my blood pressure.