I rolled onto 435 East from I-35 North and quickly transitioned into the center lane.  Traffic in the right corridor was moving far too slowly and cages in the fast lane to the left were closing from behind at a very rapid pace, but ahead of me the road was clean and clear.   My senses were on heightened alert as I was overtaking a line of the unaware.  I’m always on alert when passing or meeting a line of cages, especially when the experience is punctuated by intermittent flashing brake lights.

Surely enough, three units into the column the driver of a pickup truck chose to occupy the precise physical location that I was scheduled to penetrate within the next half breath of time.  In a near panic I grabbed a handful of front brake, quickly dropped three gears, and involuntarily uttered a very loud reference to a common biological function.  Midway through his acquisition of a new pathway, the cage driver became aware of my presence and hesitated positioning himself half in and half out of two lanes.  As soon as I confirmed that he was committed to only half of my lane, I turned up the pipes, blew past the transitory obstacle, and placed him deep in my mirror as quickly as I could.

It was another good morning and all encounters that end with the varied participants universally upright add no negative points to the day’s total.

The good news is that they’re not really aiming for us.  The bad news is that their aim is really, really bad.

You all be safe out there.