Outside The Box

“You people are living in another world! This is the 20th century, don’t you realize that? The whole world is living in a desperate space age! Men are orbiting the earth. International television has been developed. And here – a whole town is standing still because two old women’s feet fall asleep!” -“Man in a Hurry” episode of the Andy Griffith Show

State Route 75 from Towns County into Helen, Georgia, follows a portion of the old Unicoi Turnpike, a route that has been in use for over 1000 years and longer when you consider the migrating game the early inhabitants trailed. If you live here, it’s almost certain that you travel that route occasionally, because any other way south adds many extra miles to the trip.

Growing up in Gainesville with grandparents in Towns County, then living here while working in Helen and Cleveland, I’ve traveled that route countless times. We visited the grandparents often when I was very young, and some of my favorite memories were gathered along the way.

Back then, the two-lane blacktop was a lot closer to the ancient game trail than the current highway with its passing lanes and pullouts. The road was narrow, and the curves were sharp, and it seemed like it was always foggy when we crossed the mountain at night heading south. Aware of the hazards of the trip, our grandparents would always insist on praying for us before we left their house. There is no expiration date on a prayer of faith, and I’m convinced the humble entreaties of those dear old souls have kept me safe many times.

As longtime residents are somewhat painfully aware, the story of our region is one of growth, slowly and then all at once. As a small child riding in the back seat of an AMC Rambler station wagon, we were usually the only vehicle on the road crossing the mountain at night. Over the years, we got company. Lots of company.

I wish I knew the formula for predicting the critical mass of humanity, that threshold of population density necessary for a sharp reduction in intelligence and common sense which occurs when humans gather. It can happen anywhere, but some geographic locations seem to serve as a multiplier in that equation. As we traversed our mountain road with more fellow travelers, the frequency of what my senior drill instructor called “idiot attacks” began to increase.

On one memorable occasion along that route, we saw a bear scavenging in a garbage can which was then placed for the convenience of travelers who used the pullout where a historical plaque informed visitors about the beautiful vista to the south. Several weekend tourons had parked there and were out of their vehicles, 20 feet from the bear and taking pictures. One candidate for a Darwin Award was attempting to offer the bear a sandwich. Dad didn’t stick around to let us see how that turned out.

As tourism increased, the plaque was stolen, replaced, stolen again, and then the project was abandoned. They took away the garbage can.

On a Saturday morning, we were northbound on SR 75 to see the grandparents and had to stop because a car had gone off the mountain at the overlook. I don’t know if this was a health-related incident or if an idiot attack contributed to the driver’s inability to stay on the road. We were several cars back in a line waiting to get past the wrecker blocking both lanes as it winched the wrecked car back up the long, steep incline.

The weight of the car caused the front wheels of the wrecker to lift high off the pavement, temporarily clearing the northbound lane. It was surely an idiot attack that inspired the impatient driver closest to the wrecker to burn rubber and scoot under the airborne wheels with his wife and kids. They cleared the wrecker just as the winch slipped and the wheels bounced back down to the pavement. To this day that remains the single dumbest thing I’ve ever seen a human do.

Over the years, a number of people left the highway along that route due to drunk driving, one of the deadliest forms of idiot attack. This was particularly true in the years before you could stay in Towns County to drink and drive, when Helen was the closest town where you could accomplish that feat. Since then, both Towns and White County law enforcement agencies have become adept at filtering drunk drivers from the road before they reach the mountain, and as our population has aged, there is a greater danger of encountering a driver impaired by medication, age or irritability.

The idiot attacks continue, however. Tracey and I were almost collateral damage in an attack that occurred last Friday on our way north. On Fridays from just after school lets out until sometime after 6, we would rather be anywhere than on the Helen mountain; nevertheless, about 4 o’clock we found ourselves in a line of cars heading north along our storied route.

I can only imagine what the young driver in the black Range Rover was thinking, if she was thinking at all. The windows were heavily tinted, but we could see rapid hand movements which seemed to be animating a spirited conversation. We were strongly of the opinion that those hands would have been better engaged in gripping the steering wheel as she came within inches of sideswiping us, passing on the right after the lane had already merged to the left. Her parents might have been able to afford her insurance premium and the repairs, but apparently she missed the physics class which explained how two objects can’t occupy the same space at the same time.

I have no idea what she did to offend the older driver behind us, the one in a dark SUV with a handicapped sticker on the license plate, but apparently she threatened his safety or his manhood, or both. An idiot attack inspired him to roar around us on a curve so he could get behind the Range Rover and ride its bumper until he was able to pass and then hit the brakes hard, threatening a pileup behind. Those of us behind, dropping back to create a safer distance from the spectacle, got to creep along at about 20 mph until the aggressor made his point and spent, hopefully, the last measure of his rage by passing every other car on the mountain until he was out of sight.

All drivers, young and old, would be advised to remember that though modern vehicles packed with electronics and features may feel like a video game, unlike the game, there are real-world consequences for driving decisions that are rude, aggressive, or stupid. We live in a society on edge with political, cultural, and economic stress, and you never know who has collected more than their share, or whose impulse control has atrophied due to lack of practice or been degraded by alcohol, drugs, or emotional instability.

For the rest of us, adopting a few simple habits will help us keep the peace we came here to find in contrast to the places we moved to escape. There is no justification for road rage on a warm, bright winter day along a beautiful mountain road, where the traffic now is a fraction of what it will be in a few weeks.

If you’re in a hurry, it’s not the fault of the car you’re following that your planning was insufficient. Get up earlier. Lose the self-importance. You don’t know the story inside that slow-moving vehicle in front of you. The driver may be traveling as fast as they can safely go. Maybe they can’t afford to hire someone to drive them to the doctor, and their kids don’t come around anymore. Someone in the car may have motion sickness on the winding road, or be on their way back from a chemotherapy session. They may simply be exercising the right to choose their own pace and enjoy the scenery.

If you’re not in a hurry, stay in the right lane. Why is this so difficult for some people to understand? When there are cars crowding you from behind, for God’s sake use one of the numerous pullouts on the mountain instead of bowing up, slowing down, and “proving” that you can’t be intimidated. Remember why you’re not in a hurry and be grateful that you don’t have to be. While you were shopping and having dinner, the guy behind you was finishing his 60-hour work week and he wants to get home while there is a bit of daylight left to spend some time with his family or do some of the chores left undone during an exhausting week.

The group most prone to road rage are millennials. This has probably been true throughout the ages, even when the most frequent travelers on our mountain were young bucks looking for somewhere to rub the felt off their antlers. The next group most prone to rage is Generation X between 41 and 56, the years most likely for someone to have an insufferable boss at work. Next up are the Boomers, who feel entitled by their experience and economic status. All of these groups are trying to get over the mountain at the same time on a Friday afternoon and it’s not always a cordial gathering.

It behooves us to be mindful of the 40% of Americans are one paycheck away from financial distress and 37% say they can’t afford an unexpected expense over $400. A fifth of our neighbors have no savings at all. The nation is still recovering from post-pandemic and post-election trauma to boot. Never forget also that the average IQ in the United States is 98, and that half the people you encounter on the road are probably dumber than you are. Put it all together, and you have a situation where just about anywhere and at any time, but particularly on the highways, someone is one idiot attack away from a tragedy.