I like driving. In fact I like driving fast and I’d be the first to say that I’ve have broken the speed limits from time to time, primarily when I’ve been on the motorways. I like to feel a car swerving around a corner and every day I gloat at other drivers’ inabilities to drive within the tight curves of the roundabouts on my way to drop the kids off at school. Maybe I’ve watched Top Gear too much but driving still gives me a thrill; the power of steering wheel in my hands, the wind pulsating through the car, the challenge of man against nature.

But I am not a reckless driver. In fact I came to driving late. I didn’t actually learn to drive until I was in my early thirties; I had no need. At first I was a student and then I worked in London and suffered the daily horrors of the London Underground and then when I moved out of London I lived in central locations and I walked everywhere. Even after my first child was born I still not drive: I managed very well on my own two feet.

But the reality was that soon it would become a necessity to drive. The possibility of more children and living in the countryside was growing. I took lessons, past the exam and when we moved to our present home in a village I got my first car. Nothing grand; a pacey little Ford Fiesta but I loved it. Since then I’ve had 2 Volvos but now I’m back to a more fuel efficient and economic Ford Cmax, although I am also fortunate enough to have an old soft top Mazda. So on those few warm days in an otherwise cold British Climate I pretend I’m still young, single and glamorous and it’s a lot of fun.

But whilst I love driving I am also aware that a car is potentially a lethal weapon. Perhaps because I came to driving late I was more aware of my own mortality and of the mortality of others; that a life could so easily be ended in a moment of rash, thoughtless behaviour. Maybe it was also because I have children or maybe it was even just the way I was brought up.

So on the whole, I drive sensibly. I drive to the speed limit about town and I try never to put my children or the lives of others in danger. That’s not to say I haven’t made mistakes; we all have and that’s only human. We learn by them and hopefully they are not serious enough that we have to live with them for the rest of our lives. I had a bad skid once in my Mazda. Ironically, I was taking it for its MOT; it had just rained, the road was slippery and I was pulling out across a junction. Nothing dramatic, nothing risky. The steering wheel just took over and I swerved onto the other side of the road. Fortunately for me there was no traffic around, I regained control and another lesson was learnt; I don’t drive my Mazda in the rain anymore. Maybe that’s an overreaction but hey I’ve got three kids and I’m not going to take any unnecessary chances.

I often make jokes about The School Run but the truth is its very dangerous and not to be taken lightly.

Like today. When I saw the wreckage from a head on collision in the road.

It was pretty obvious what had happened; the nearby bypass is a death trap. It is wide and has enough room for 4 cars to travel abreast. There is no central reservation. The car that that was wrecked was an old, fast car and it was entirely on the wrong side of the road. I know these cars; everyday I see young men believing they are invincible overtaking recklessly in pursuit of speed and glory. This one obviously met another overtaking in the other direction or someone not familiar with this road and driving too wide. It’s a 60 mph speed limit; my guess he was doing at least 70 mph or more. And then –

Bang.

Dead.

Life over; a life wasted which had only just begun.

I’ve had a few close shaves myself on this road. Last year I was driving at my standard 60mph. There’s a truck overtaking another truck coming in the other direction. Idiot. But I’m not a nervous type. There’s still plenty of room and then, out of a nowhere, a car decides to overtake the second truck. He is upon me in an instant. I have no time to think. I only have reaction time and swerve into the bicycle lane. Fortunately, no bicyclist. We miss by a few inches. My heart is now beating fast, a film of fear sweeps over me, knowing that perhaps on another day, maybe with the kids in the car with more noise and distractions, I just might not have been fast enough.

What can he have been thinking? What was so important that he would risk his life and mine for such a stupid manoeuvre?

A few months ago I was also one of the first to arrive upon the scene of a young girl hit whilst crossing the road. It was a genuine accident; she’d tried to follow her friend across the road and ran into an oncoming van. It had thrown her up into air and she’d landed with at thud on the tarmac. The police and ambulance were not yet there and as my bag is full of medication as one of my son’s has some serious allergies I got out of my car to see if there was anything I could do.

But I could see there was nothing to be done.

She was unconscious, blood oozing from ear. Her body lifeless like a broken puppet.

Accidents do happen. That’s life. I’d like to think that if ever I, or any of my children and family, were involved in an unintentional accident that I would be able to forgive and indeed, if the situation was reversed, that someone would do the same for me.

But irresponsible drivers really make me angry. They risk not only their own lives but the lives of innocents. They destroy families and they are a curse to all of us who wish to travel safely. The penalties should be more severe for these people who are often repeat offenders using their mobile phones, consuming alcohol, speeding and harassing other drivers. They deserve a greater punishment than the current token gestures our feeble justice system delivers.

This afternoon when I take to the road, the wreckage will be cleared.

An empty space.

An empty space where a life should be.

And all for what?

Copyright Jane Turley 2008 

Jane’s more humorous musings can be found at The Witty Ways of a Wayward Wife.