I’ve never driven a car at Autobahn speeds, those allowed on the German freeways, until two days ago. Susan was dozing in the passenger seat and I thought, what the heck, just this once. Both of us had been driving around 140 to 160Km/h. There were no posted speeds, no Polizei anywhere, with the German attitude, that every car is teflon coated is always in play. The cars we’ve owned would fall apart at such frightening speeds, even if you pushed your foot through the floorboard. The cute little VW Golf we drove years ago when we lived here, we kept parked in the far right lane and lived happily there. Until two days ago
t started at the car rental agency where we were upgraded from a boring also ran vehicle.
As Susan dealt with the agent, Molly could barely stand the wait, I had no idea what Susan had in store for us as we approached the car. From the smirk on her face, I knew something was up. It’s a Beamer, I whispered.
This may not have been the exact model, but you know how car rental ageneices are, famous for bumping you up if they don’t have what was originally promised.
Susan naviagated us out of the city, as I had no idea how, at first. We do not own a car, and getting used to the 23rd century control panel took a while. Neither of us like to drive that much, especially on foregin roads, but we have shared the duties a couple of time before, overseas. I had to drive in Saudi Arabia, it was the law, and for reasons too gruesome to dredge up, I chose not to drive in Germany a decade ago.
So many things need adjusting to in the 2025 BMW we were given. Surprisingly, it would never be the perfect car for us. As a peson who stands 6’3” I can barely crawl into the front seats—a thing so much easier to do in any other car we’ve owned or rented. But it is solid and moves like a bat out of hell. There are so many different warning signals you can’t ever tell which one or the other is going off. And no time to search a telephone book sized instruciton manual in German. So we just waited, and soon the sound would stop, until the next one started. Overall it rides like a bullet, quiet, and smooth on any road. And in that, it fools you. When we traveled at 60 in a VW Bus, Golf, or Beetle, and hit sixty, the noises weren’t from warning signals, but from road and car nosie.
The scene was set
Susan had nodded off in the passenger seat and I was alone admiring the countryside as the we left most cars and trucks in the dust. At 150 to 160 in the middle of nowhere I thought I’d have a little fun. Slowly pushing the throttle down, down, down, faster and faster, it didn’t feel any different no matter how much faster we went. There I was, for at least a couple of minutes, in the rocket lane, by myself, watching the bushes blow back, not a care in the world, until I saw a drag strip racer coming up on me like I was standing still.
The real difference then struck me. As I signaled to get over, I felt it. It was in the steering. At 200 Km/h the steering was unbelievably sensitive, If I had yanked a little too hard on the wheel, we would have done a rollover into a pasture, past cows, gophers, and angels, on our way to the next life. Back to 150 just as Susan was waking up.
“Miss anything?” she asked.
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