Two-lane roads are kind of my thing. I’ve been driving on backroads since I first got my license, and even now, I’ll usually choose the farm-lined route over the interstate. Driving to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving was no exception.
Despite my vast experience, I have two serious fears:
- Someone popping up in my backseat
- Getting followed
#1 is ridiculous, unless one is in a horror movie.
#2 has happened a few times. It’s usually pretty unremarkable. Not so much tonight.
Google Maps chose the zigzag route, and once the sun went down, it was pretty easy to miss the turns, and I flew by one. There was a grain elevator about half a mile up, and I turned around and headed back. But there was a white pickup truck parked along the side of the road with its lights on, and when I passed it on my way back, it pulled out behind me. Cue panic.
In town, you can just turn a lot and eventually lose the possible stalker. With six miles before the next turn, there’s only one option – brights on, pedal down, and run like hell. If the roads are clear and traffic is light, you just might shake them. And I did. But oof, what an experience for the last hour of a long driving day.