Driving on weekday morning on highway is not a particularly exciting activity. I tend to drive along usual paths, change lines in usual places and listen to usual radio stations. I do not expect any surprises during my morning ride and my daily observations of the traffic are more-less similar every day.
Driving below speed limit on left lane, passing on right side, juggling cellphone and frappuccino cups, changing lines with out signalling make average driving skills of Canadians pitifully close to driving skills of statistical American meandering on streets of Willimasburg – nothing new to see here.
There are plenty of small pet-pees, we have to deal with on roadway every day, yest most of the time traffic flows pleasantly smooth and most drivers do exactly what we expect them to do: courteously move to right so you can marge, go around semi trucks to avoid chip stones thrown by their evil twin tires, drive 140km/h on the 416 left line before it merges with West Queesnsway, etc…
This smoothness of traffic flow resembles a ballet where everyone is moving but no one is colliding. The floor is crowded with dancers of different sizes and shapes, but if you pay attention to what’s around you will not step on someones foot. Surprisingly there is not much honking to be heard on dancing floor too. Black Hyundai coupe zigzagging today on Hunt Club did not cause even a single honk although he managed to squeeze in gaps where I would certainly exchange paint with neighbors.
Sometimes there are slow moving objects (usually it is a pickup that looks like it felt from the cliff) that blocks the right line exactly at the section where I want to merge. This makes me do one of two things: slow down and merge behind the truck – this would piss the guy in Kia behind me, or floor the gas and merge in front of the pickup – this always gives me a lesson on unpleasant lag of the automatic gear box and metallic noise of high reeving motor.
Well, … nothing is perfect, including ballet.