Icewire: writing : cruft : A Random Drive

Driving north on 101 approaching San Mateo with no real destination in mind. Just running on autopilot hoping something interesting comes to attention. Nothing but sound walls, industrial parks, and traffic surrounded the car. Passing the Ampex building which is shadowed by the largely empty Excite@Home buildings, I just have to smile. One of these things is not like the other. I chuckle and enjoy the speed generated wind passing through my hair. Taking the westbound 92 exit to get a change in scenery. It's time to see something less industrial, less depressed. Skipping 280 and going straight 37. The Skyline expressway- a twisting ribbon of pavement following ridge lines and valleys.
50MPH is some parts, 35MPH is other parts, but shit it's a weekday and the speed traps aren't out. Down to fourth gear to keep the car going around 70 on the inclines. The lateral forces as I whip around the turns tries to get me out of my seat. Sometime feeling the car about to lose grip around a corner the thought of slowing down comes to mind. But I'm not going to slow down. Faith in friction, faith in the car, and faith (if unwarranted) in driving skills fuels the hubris which pushes the vehicle faster.
Rushing wind, engine rumbling, and the occasional tire squeak are my only companions and the only music I need. I tore out the stereo months ago just to emphasize that point. Who needs a radio when you have the music of horizontally opposed German engineering singing behind you? Besides, getting rid of the stereo cleared up one of those persistent electrical gremlins a car this old sometimes carries.
Rolling up on a motorcycle is a odd experience. Typically, they would be passing me, even at these speeds. Guess the rider catching a view of my car approaching goads them to gun it. With the acceleration you can only get in something that weighs so little they is gone. But I'm not racing any crotch-rocket and I'm not going to try and catch up with them. Road spam just waiting to happen. I'll take a little bit of steel around my body, thank you very much.
Two miles out from Alice's Restaurant and I hit 85 downhill around a right hand turn and slide sideways part way across the road. Having no intention of getting wrapped around a redwood, I drop from 5th to 4th and hit the retro's. 5,000, 4,000, 3,000RPM and down to 3rd to repeat the sequence. It's time to get to a nominally more controllable speed as I approach what will suffice for a destination.
Sliding out of the car to the sound of the engine cooling off, I climb up the wooden steps. ``You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant,'' as the old Arlo Guthrie tune goes. Everything, except Alice, of course, but a cheese burger and beer will do just fine, thank you. Exposed beam and wood framed, Alice's has been around longer than I have lived and will probably be around longer that I will live. Institutions are good like that. Something that is transgenerational- a fixed point in the flow of time which everyone can share.
Finishing off the burger and wiping away the last bits of grease and nostalgia from my face, I pay and head back to the car. She's gotten enough of a rest and is read for more of the road. Continuing south and head a left onto 9 towards Saratoga. Creeping through Saratoga, I take another left to head towards 85.
The on-ramps for 85 are like launch pads and my speed hits the route number by the time I get to the merge. Traffic is starting to get heavier as the sun slowly slides behind the ridge I was just riding. Luckily I'm traveling counter to the typical rush, but I still check my speed. Police will be increasing their patrols about now and there is no need to end the day getting caught doing a moving violation. Approaching the merge of 85 and 101, I consider starting the loop again, but decide this run ends with one lap.