Most people, when they visit Sin City, fear losing their
money. I feared losing my life. On a recent visit to Las Vegas, it seemed like
we had the potential to be in an accident every five minutes because of these
drivers. I lost count of how many ambulances I saw or heard. Personal injury
attorneys must be doing a land office business there.
Speed limits don’t mean diddly. Drivers disregarded the 35
mph signs on city streets and raced between stop lights at speeds approaching
60 mph, then slammed on their brakes when they hit a red light. Jon says they
tailgated something fierce, and he thought we were going to be rear-ended
several times. Drivers made multi-lane changes without warning. They also would
drift into our lane, nearly sideswiping us. A couple of times the cars were so
close, if my window were open I could have reached out and shook hands with the
driver. Motorcyclists created their own
lanes, driving between two lanes of cars.
Early on, I permanently attached my hand to the “oh shit”
handle, and held on so tightly my arm began to hurt. I could feel my blood
pressure going off the charts. I started shaking and couldn’t stop, even after
we returned to our hotel. Quick, where’s my Valium!
Highway 95, the route we traveled that stretches between
Canada and Mexico, is posted at 75 mph in Nevada. Going up, Jon was driving the
speed limit when suddenly we were passed by a yellow blur that must have been
doing well over 100 mph. Coming back, two semis passed us while we were
traveling the speed limit. At one point, we were on a state highway, one lane
in each direction, which was posted at 70 mph and were still getting passed.
What I got out of this trip is that I will never, ever again
think Beijing traffic is unsafe.
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