I took a small break from my winter holiday at the Shuswap to come back to Calgary.
Greg and I drove back to the Shuswap which is where this sign interested me.
Odd to be reminded that there is no picnicking going on at the Subway stop in Golden.
The road is straight, from here to there -- at least to me. I know well that it curves at Field for about 50 kilmoters and that we go straight south for a while. Still, it seems like the road between home and the Shuswap is a straight line.
Greg and I have this in common -- we have the same style of driving.
"I have only had one ticket in my life, Greg."
"Me too, and I just got mine this year. Driving close to my own house, but I just was not aware of the playground area there. I am going to have to be more vigilant around my own house."
"I got mine many years ago, going up 10th Street. The speedometer on the car was broken, which is the excuse I use. I probably shouldn't have been driving the car with a broken speedometer, but we did many foolish things in those days."
If Greg or I are the driver, you can count that the car will be moving just one mile under the speed limit.
That vigilance to the speed limit can go on for miles and miles. Greg pulls over when he gets a line of cars behind him, letting them go by if he thinks a passing lane is too far away for them.
When the line-up behind us forges forward, then we drive happily on, making sure we stop at Tim Hortons when we get to Revelstoke.
"Nothing like a drink and a cookie to help us take the last 100 kilomters," says Greg. I agree.
Arta
Greg and I drove back to the Shuswap which is where this sign interested me.
Odd to be reminded that there is no picnicking going on at the Subway stop in Golden.
The road is straight, from here to there -- at least to me. I know well that it curves at Field for about 50 kilmoters and that we go straight south for a while. Still, it seems like the road between home and the Shuswap is a straight line.
Greg and I have this in common -- we have the same style of driving.
"I have only had one ticket in my life, Greg."
"Me too, and I just got mine this year. Driving close to my own house, but I just was not aware of the playground area there. I am going to have to be more vigilant around my own house."
"I got mine many years ago, going up 10th Street. The speedometer on the car was broken, which is the excuse I use. I probably shouldn't have been driving the car with a broken speedometer, but we did many foolish things in those days."
If Greg or I are the driver, you can count that the car will be moving just one mile under the speed limit.
That vigilance to the speed limit can go on for miles and miles. Greg pulls over when he gets a line of cars behind him, letting them go by if he thinks a passing lane is too far away for them.
When the line-up behind us forges forward, then we drive happily on, making sure we stop at Tim Hortons when we get to Revelstoke.
"Nothing like a drink and a cookie to help us take the last 100 kilomters," says Greg. I agree.
Arta
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