At least once a week, I travel the Trans Canada Highway, or 401 as it's more commonly known. It's a necessary evil of a life spent primarily behind the wheel, whether I'm returning a press car or heading to the airport; you can't get there from here without taking the 401.
What was once just a long commute has steadily become a journey rife with frustration and outright danger. Four to six lanes of untrained, ignorant and criminally oblivious drivers all come together in a chaotic display of every bad habit imaginable: texting, illegal lane changing, squatting in the passing lane, tailgating… dirty bare foot propped on the window sill (and yes, that was the driver).
If only—as my colleague Matt has repeatedly lamented—we could adopt the disciplined driving practices of the Germans and the wonderfully organized choreography of the Autobahn.
Lately, just to add to the insane mix, the amount of heavy transport-truck traffic seems to have increased tenfold. I'm not talking about your run-of-the-mill Peterbilt, but those gigantic tandem rigs resembling cargo trains. Yesterday, I watched two lanes of smoothly-flowing traffic instantly jam up in a sea of red brake lights when one of these behemoths decided to pass another.
I can remember when truck drivers garnered some respect—they had a reputation for being responsible professionals—even good Samaritans of the highway. You could tuck yourself behind one of those guys and have him lead you safely through the worst blizzard. Now, they're more like the possessed rig from the horror movie "Duel" with Dennis Weaver.
During one three-hour return commute last week, I counted six "truck trains", sounding my horn at a rig that briefly took over half my lane, and dodged several retread carcasses, one of which took out a white panel van a lane over.
Is our relentless need for cheap goods so overwhelming that we've gradually become conditioned to accept this? Because we know that any extra cost incurred by using alternate, but safer methods such as trains, will be passed on to you and me, the consumer.
What truly capped the day was being trapped behind a gravel truck whose nod to the "loads must be covered" law consisted of a tarp, secured loosely at four points and billowing above the truck load like a sail in high wind. It was inevitable that one of the flurry of stones in its wake would meet my windshield–which it did with a resounding "crack". What started as a fair-sized chip became a full-on split running the width of the glass on a $40,000 press car entrusted to my care.
Unacceptable? I think so. And I'm willing to bet that most of you agree.
What was once just a long commute has steadily become a journey rife with frustration and outright danger. Four to six lanes of untrained, ignorant and criminally oblivious drivers all come together in a chaotic display of every bad habit imaginable: texting, illegal lane changing, squatting in the passing lane, tailgating… dirty bare foot propped on the window sill (and yes, that was the driver).
If only—as my colleague Matt has repeatedly lamented—we could adopt the disciplined driving practices of the Germans and the wonderfully organized choreography of the Autobahn.
Lately, just to add to the insane mix, the amount of heavy transport-truck traffic seems to have increased tenfold. I'm not talking about your run-of-the-mill Peterbilt, but those gigantic tandem rigs resembling cargo trains. Yesterday, I watched two lanes of smoothly-flowing traffic instantly jam up in a sea of red brake lights when one of these behemoths decided to pass another.
I can remember when truck drivers garnered some respect—they had a reputation for being responsible professionals—even good Samaritans of the highway. You could tuck yourself behind one of those guys and have him lead you safely through the worst blizzard. Now, they're more like the possessed rig from the horror movie "Duel" with Dennis Weaver.
During one three-hour return commute last week, I counted six "truck trains", sounding my horn at a rig that briefly took over half my lane, and dodged several retread carcasses, one of which took out a white panel van a lane over.
Is our relentless need for cheap goods so overwhelming that we've gradually become conditioned to accept this? Because we know that any extra cost incurred by using alternate, but safer methods such as trains, will be passed on to you and me, the consumer.
What truly capped the day was being trapped behind a gravel truck whose nod to the "loads must be covered" law consisted of a tarp, secured loosely at four points and billowing above the truck load like a sail in high wind. It was inevitable that one of the flurry of stones in its wake would meet my windshield–which it did with a resounding "crack". What started as a fair-sized chip became a full-on split running the width of the glass on a $40,000 press car entrusted to my care.
Unacceptable? I think so. And I'm willing to bet that most of you agree.