I take pride in my driving skills – they come quite naturally, as I have excellent driving genes on both sides of my family. My father was known as the “flying doctor,” for his love of Volvo’s and driving fast. My mother was known to plow her Volkswagen through any snow storm like she was in a Zamboni. Having learned how to drive when I was nine, indicates my years of experience. Having learned how to drive manual when I was twelve, indicates that I sort of know what I’m talking about. So, listen up.
On a general note, when driving on rural islands, watch carefully for road hazards such as drunks, road kill, dogs, beer kegs, pine cones, old couches, cats, mattresses, shredded tires, used diapers and ravens.
Let’s start with the incessant brakers. Brakes for approaching cars. Brakes for driveways. Brakes for low flying eagles. Brakes for slight curves in road. Brakes for deep thoughts. It’s distracting and dangerous. Instead of being hyper-vigilant with your right foot on the brake pedal, try keeping your foot off by gently lifting it ever so gingerly, you may well be pleasantly surprised. Very similar to the incessant braker, we have the erratic driver or stoner. Drives over the speed limit in school zones, drives under elsewhere; tailgates you one moment, disappears the next. And then the one who is so in a hurry that they have to pull out their driveway in front of you suddenly, even though there is no one for miles behind you. Passive aggressive yahoo.
Merging…Is it because it means “to combine to form a single entity,” that make us two islands so adverse to doing it properly, let alone with dignity and decorum? I’ve never seen such infantile behaviour. Me first. Me, me, me, me, me. Depending on the order they let us off the ferry, I’m either “Whatever, just do it, get in” or “No, effing way buddy, don’t even think about it.” Coming back from town? It’s always the erratic one, pulling off the ferry like a greyhound on steroids and then leisurely making their way home to Eagle Point. (Leisurely is a polite term for driving below the speed limit.) Seriously, if the ferry crew let us on and off in the same order, there would be less speeding across Denman and less attitude. I’ve said it before and I will say it again, forget the separate lanes for Hornby and Denman at Buckley Bay, if they never let us off in the correct, logical order, why bother?
Forget the traffic rules you learned elsewhere about four-way stops. On Hornby, the rules have changed at our one and only four-way stop. Hummers and Teslas always go first. Cars and trucks with the loudest muffler go second, and he-who-has-the-biggest-tires goes third.
Turning left. It’s formally known as the “Country Turn.” When turning left into a driveway or some such destination, and there is no approaching traffic: Gingerly turn your steering wheel to the left and enter the approaching lane well before the actual exit. Those behind will continue on their journey smoothly and you will shine as the beneficent one. If someone actually has their turn signal on, wave them to the shoulder immediately to let them know it has been “accidentally activated.”
Idling in your car. Never. The only legal idling on Hornby is at Little Tribune Bay parking lot. And no, not in the car, silly, on the log, with a beer and a fattie. Another no-no. Honking. Never honk at anyone. Ever. Seriously. You could end up in a ditch. Or have some random road kill left at your front door.
In a recent ICBC survey, no surprise that 68% rated their own driving skills as excellent, with a third saying other drivers have poor skills. Among areas for improvement drivers admitted to were leaving enough distance from the vehicle in front (58%), giving other drivers space when merging (47%) and coming to a full stop at a stop sign (36%). Sound familiar?
Though it’s a lot harder to get a driver’s license today than in my day, it always amazes me that we can still drive aimlessly (literally) until we are well into our 80s before we need to get retested. Every five years you need to be re-tested to drive a Zamboni. Every three years to operate a back hoe or excavator. Driving a vehicle? Every 50 years or so. An ICBC driver licensing office manager, said poetically, “For some of us, it may be decades since we learned to drive, and our road test is a distant memory in the rear-view mirror.” Think about that, the next time you hop in your car.
