Sink Hole

The other day I was driving down the road as I normally do when out of nowhere the car jostled strangely. Because I am normally over-calm when it comes to unanticipated cafuffles, I thought nothing of it.

It turns out there is a sink hole in my road! Sure, it's only about 9 square feet, but it's a sink hole none the less. My dad told me that if I were going the speed limit and rode over the sink hole, the effect would be great enough to send me through the windshield of the car.

This made me realize the following two things:

1. I should drive the speed limit.
2. I should avoid the sink hole.

Well, driving the speed limit is just not going to happen (before some cops read my blog and come after me, let me just say the limit on my road is 25 and the highest enforceable limit in NH is 30, and since I only ever go 35 you've really got nothing on me). Instead, I have been concentrating my efforts on avoiding the sink hole.

Day one of avoiding the sink hole was not too successful. All the way down the road I said to myself, "avoid the hole, avoid the hole, avoid the hole." My chant suddenly was forgotten altogether, though, when I saw a young-ish guy out for a jog in the road. Young guys are a rare find in my town, much less young, athletic, beautifully tanned ones, so needless to say I got all distracted, forgot about the hole and drove right over it.

Day two was slightly more successful. I slowed down to 10, drove down the middle of the road for about 2 miles in avoidance preparation, and noted that the sink hole was next to the tree with orange tape on the side of the road.

Day three was successful but only because of my sister. When I started saying, "Ok, here comes the sink hole, right by the speed limit sign," she reminded me that it was not by the speed limit sign but by the tree with the orange tape.

Future outlook: not good. I've taken to wearing my helmet in the car, just in case.