=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Death Wish 93 ------------- Some call it the "hard road" and others know it as the road of ugly head-on fatalities. We are talking about Highway 93 which extends from Phoenix, Arizona up through Montana and into the great white north--Canada. The stops, much less cities, are few and far between with much of the route two lanes. It's January 9th, 1996 and in a few moments I'll be leaving Las Vegas where I spent a few days exploring what the Winter Consumer Electronics Show had to offer. My trip has lasted a little more than a week, taking me from my home near Fort Lauderdale, Florida to this "city of sin." I've put about 3500 miles on my car (yes, I drove) and burned quite a bit of rubber off my Bridgestone RE71's. So far the only casualties we've suffered, besides sickness, has been some damage to my bumper when I hit a high curb while parking my car in Zion National Park--be sure to watch the curb near the River Walk trail. Michael, my accomplice, is from Berlin, Germany and is someone I met over the internet. He is the only person interested in going with me on this drive to Las Vegas. I guess I can see why now--it has been a tough ride with lots of 12 hour driving days and minimal stops. Michael didn't talk very much on the trip which make it tougher on me. Thank goodness I brought a lot of CDs and tapes. I fucked up a turn on the airport road which I hoped Michael would help me navigate so I ended up dropping him off at arrivals. He got nervous cause all the doors said EXIT and wanted me to take him to departures. I told him I might get lost again and that his best bet was to enter the exit and find his check in area. Once Michael made it inside I took off. After about a week of traveling together I was actually glad to see him go. The communication gap or Michael's silence annoyed me. Sometimes talking to him was like talking to an invisible friend except if you were really lucky your invisible friend would talk back. It is still dark as I attempt to make my way out of the city. With no city map I take a guess at the road which should take me out of the city. After questioning my judgment for several miles I decide I better stop at a gas station and ask for direction. The gas attendant tells me I should continue on the road I am taking and I will make it to the highway I am searching for. I drive a few miles and begin to question the directions but finally see the highway. Within a couple hours I make it to my first stop--Kingman, Arizona. I gas up and decide to stop at a tire shop to have my tires rotated. The front tires (140 traction) are almost slicks on the side and down to the "time to replace nub" on the center grooves. The back tires are wearing thin too but have enough tread to make the rotation worthwhile. I'm heading east on I-40 towards my Highway 93 turn off doing about 75-80mph and notice the tire rotation has actually provided me with a smoother ride. The tire shop only performed a rotation not a balance; definitely a good decision that will make the remaining 2500 miles go a bit easier. My decision for taking Highway 93 is so I can take a different route home instead of I40. I could take I40 east to I17 and take I17 south to I10 but looking at the map that would take about an hour or two longer. Highway 93 looked to be the smart choice plus with the extra time I could stop by another national park. I make my turn on Highway 93 and realize not only that the speed limit is less but it seems to be a limitless two lane highway not as sparsely driven as I had hoped. Oh well, at least the occasional passing lane will make the ride easier. I do my best to maintain about 70mph on the road even though there is a posted 55mph limit. Sure I'm speeding but how many cops are going to be watching cars out in the middle of the Arizona desert? The long stretches of land with few oncoming vehicles allowe me to pass a lot of the initial backlog of trucks and campers. Sometimes a third lane shows up and I use it, other times I pass when it clear. Then the inevitable happens. I caught up to a truck, a camper, and a car doing the speed limit (55mph) and sometimes slowing down to 45-50mph. Taking a quick peek tells me all three vehicles are too close together to pass one at a time so if I want to pass it is going to be all or nothing. Or, as a last result, I could wait for a passing lane. Behind these vehicles time seems to stop. Tick, Tick. Seconds seemed like minutes and minutes like hours. The road is not clearing and there are not any passing lane in sight. My frustration builds. Then, dead ahead I see my chance. It is a passing lane but for the oncoming traffic. I looked ahead and see no one using the passing lane so I decided my chance to pass is now. I downshift and pass the first car and truck in fourth with no problem. I notice oncoming traffic in the other lane but no one using the passing lane so I am still safe to finish the pass. About another half mile or maybe more of the passing lane remains. It is hard to tell. I do know that traffic is approaching so I better get moving. I shift to fifth and am doing about 80 but barely passing the camper. Is that fucker speeding up or is the slight hill holding me back I wonder. Oncoming traffic is very close now with a semi in the lead. The hill is getting closer and my time is running out; I'm now doing 85. All of the sudden a cold sweat starts to come over my body as I watch the semi and oncoming traffic approach. I see my passing lane end up ahead and now head is starting to feel strange like all my blood is racing for my head. I'm starting to tingle, my head feels fat, I'm sweating and my body is cold. I pull out of the passing lane to complete the pass at the same moment the semi pulls into the expanded lane (lane right of the passing lane). I finish the pass doing 85mph--thirty miles over the speed limit. Still, it wasn't fast enough for me. The tingling sensation starts to go away as I slow down and come to my senses. Those last few seconds felt like all the blood in my body went directly to my head. I can't describe it much better than that though it is not a pleasurable feeling but more of an extreme fear feeling--not something I care to experience again anytime soon. It was like my body knew death was a possibility and pumped as much blood to the brain to preserve it as long as possible in the case of an accident. In the miles that followed the close call I was extremely frightened and became really pissed with my stupidity after I saw "our" passing only a mile after passing the three vehicles. The next hour or so on Highway 93 I kept shaking my head (no) wondering how I come I'm so fucking impatient and why I pulled a stupid stunt like that (using the other vehicles lane to pass even though it is legal). The rest of my trip I kept thinking this is a sign. I've been given a new life or at least the opportunity to finish the old and start living the "new life." During the days and months that followed I slowly forgot about Highway 93 and my close call and my life went back to normal. Looking back I wonder if it taught me a lesson. Maybe all it taught me was I should have a more powerful car as one with 145 horses is not enough. Or maybe I was just lucky that day and I shouldn't try to think anything otherwise. Perhaps it is me but something tells me it was more than luck that kept me alive. I try to ask "why" but there is no response. I ask what is my destiny and why was I spared. I look for meaning but all I get is silence. My new life is just my old life painted with one more stripe. I'm the same person with another experience, that of a death wish on the hard road of life. Looking for reason, Pallbearer =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions = = Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = To receive new issues through mail, mail jericho@dimensional.com with = = "subscribe fuck". 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