It was about this time last year I last posted. Life and work being
the whirlwind it sometimes is, I hadn’t even realized that fact until I got the
hankering to tear into another story. I might have to pick up the pace… I would
like to write more than 10 more articles before I retire. In our last
installment my son and I had resurrected a 1978 Puch Newport moped and I was
consumed with its thrift and questioned why everyone didn’t do this for
transportation. … Then I found out why.
The reality sank in (well, was more like beat in) about the fifth
time someone pulled out right in front of me as if I was non-existent. In most
cases I was burning along on my chainsaw-engine driven bike wound up tight with
no opportunity to dodge the bullet, I just had to out-brake it. Each time, the
drivers not only had a telephone glued to the side of their head, but also had
that distant gaze thing going, so I truly wasn’t “seen” even though they looked
right at me. Had they been paying attention, they likely could have seen the
fear in my eyes as easily as a saw the lack of cognition in theirs. On other
occasions I had impatient folks pulling around me so closely that they polished
the end of my left handlebar grip. In the end I concluded life and limb hinges
not only on the rider’s awareness, but lots of visibility and a little power to
get out of trouble when needed.
The Puch didn’t go away, but it did adapt. It got faster and much
more visible; I’ve hot rodded it modestly and improved the lighting. The
economy has suffered as I now get an appalling 85 MPG for my shenanigans. But I
can swallow this distasteful fact as it makes the machine more practical, more
usable and safer (yes, faster can be safer. If you don’t believe that, try
keeping your cool as a 2½ ton SUV blows by you within millimeters going 45MPH
while you are buzzing along merrily at 25 MPH on a machine that weighs less
than 100 lbs. dripping wet).
All these mods which I’ve performed on this antique got me
thinking; How much of our modern automotive evolution would we willingly pony
up for ourselves if we didn’t already have those decisions made for us? In my
case I opted for improved performance and visibility; an attempt to enjoy the
hobby more and hopefully postpone a trip to the hospital. And when my wife and
I went car shopping earlier this year, I was grateful I would be putting her in
something with side-curtain airbags. I’ve seen the pathetic attention paid my
much of motoring America and wanted her to have some protection.
I recently had the opportunity to travel to one of the auto
manufacturer’s annual model year preview events, wherein they blew their own
horn about the new model’s bells and whistles. This time they spent most of the
presentation extolling the virtues of vehicles which required even less interactive
operator involvement than we have already slumped to. Standard equipment will
now include (if I understood correctly) autonomous braking and lane-departure
warning systems. Based on my adventures in Slo-pedding, I’m not at all sure I
object. NHTSA may have a strong point: Since you can’t change the driver,
change the equipment.
You see, the garden variety American motorist is hell-bent on
proving not only that they don’t know how to drive, but also that they have no
interest in learning…. “Oh please” they clamor, “take these pedestrian duties
from us so that we don’t have to become pedestrians!”. I can hear the crinkle of
checkbooks opening now….
… Or maybe that’s just my ears acting up from riding the chainsaw.
© 2018 D.W. Williams
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