Idaho Drivers: A Cautionary Tale

[First Published in The Basic Alternative Newspaper, June 2013]

How many times have you narrowly averted disaster at the hands of some clueless driver while on the road? It happens all the time—bad driving is pandemic. While we might speculate on the causes, it’s more interesting to consider the results, and the people who cause them. So, who are these people, and where do they come from? The answers may surprise you.

When I moved to Idaho, I was warned to watch out for bad drivers: Idaho is the worst! People always complain about the terrible drivers in their own state, nothing new there. So, I paid no attention. I mean, how bad could they be? Turns out, Idaho drivers aren’t that hot. In a country full of underperforming drivers, why should we be different? As in other fields of human endeavor, not all drivers are created equally. Some of us are just awful. Then there are the truly bad drivers….

Of course, anyone can make a mistake—and most have. Once, during a rainstorm, I pulled out of a town in Oregon headed north. Visibility wasn’t too bad; I could almost see the end of my hood. Traffic was light, the smart drivers having elected to call it a day. Not me, I had a schedule to keep. And so I found myself northbound on the highway… and confused. The few southbound vehicles I met seemed to veer dangerously close to me while laying on the horn. Oregon drivers are weird that way. I verified my headlights were working. Hard to say what their problem was. Maybe they’d been in Oregon so long the humidity had caused their synapses to get mushy. Water on the brain, it happens.

Anyway, I continued on for another half mile or so when I detected a set of headlights dead ahead and closing. As I mentally prepared for a collision, my thoughts were a swirl of four-letter words. Oregon drivers are the worst! At the last possible moment, the other vehicle swerved to his right and disappeared into the void. Man, I thought. That was close… These guys could really use some driver’s ed. Visibility was still so poor all I had been able to make out were headlights. Call it extrasensory perception—or maybe the sort of insight that only comes from being a highly experienced driver. Whatever; I knew something wasn’t right.

Slowing, I pulled over to assess the situation. By this time, visibility had increased dramatically—maybe twenty feet. Rolling down my window for a better view, I discovered I had been traveling northbound in the southbound lane. Fortunately, the weather was so poor no one else had ventured past. Slightly embarrassed, and with a newfound empathy for Oregon drivers, I made a quick U-turn and nonchalantly retraced my path—this time in the proper direction. So it can happen to anybody.

Some drivers do have a tough time telling their left from their right. The other day I watched a driver in a pickup truck turn on to a side street, where he blithely proceeded with the solid yellow line to the right of his vehicle. It was a sunny day, so he couldn’t even use my weather alibi. To be fair, he was headed for Wal-Mart. And since they always place their entrances on the left, he might have just been trying to get into the spirit of the thing.

Sometimes it isn’t left and right that’s the problem, but backward and forward. During my stint at a police department, I once took a complaint from an outraged woman who claimed to have been rear ended on the highway. After twenty minutes of attempting to interview her while scribbling diagrams on the accident form, I determined that she really had been struck from behind—while backing up on the highway. I tried to explain that she had been in the wrong, but she wasn’t buying it. Finally, in an exasperated voice, she said: If the other car didn’t rear end me, what do you call it? Good question. Pausing, I replied: Well… I guess you front ended them. Who says that police aren’t helpful?

When I first mentioned to a friend that I was writing this article, his response was reflexive: Utah drivers are the worst! No doubt that opinion is shared by a lot of people in Idaho. Anyone who has had the misfortune to drive between Ogden and Salt Lake City would have to agree. Because many people move to Idaho from Utah, it might help explain our driving deficit. Of course, if you ask someone from Utah about this, they’ll deny everything and blame it on them durn Californicators and their bad driving.

It is possible Californians are unprepared for the wide-open spaces out this way. After all, how much trouble can they get into back in the Golden State where most of their day is spent stuck in traffic? Nothing beats watching some yuppie impatiently racing the engine of his German sports car while contemplating ten miles of traffic backed up ahead of him. So, when turned loose with generous speed limits and uncluttered freeways, some Californians tend to run amuck—who can blame them? Despite this, it’s doubtful if they are the only ones creating problems.

So, Idanistas blame Utahans, who in turn probably blame it on some liberal, non-driving conspiracy spearheaded by the United Nations.  Lest we feel too sorry for the scapegoats from California, it should be noted that they—in turn—attribute all the poor driving in their state to an influx of non-driving Asian immigrants. It’s a vicious circle of ineptitude.

Speaking of vicious circles, who’s the genius that decided to use traffic roundabouts in Idaho? Seriously, if you’ve ever seen the traffic lights go out at a four-way stop, you know what I mean. It’s painful to watch; particularly when someone runs into you because they couldn’t figure out whose turn it was to go. Despite this, engineers tasked with keeping traffic moving efficiently have opted to inject a bit of old-world charm into the system. That’s great. We can all sit around and play bocce ball while waiting for the tow trucks to arrive.

When using roundabouts, it’s best to watch out for them good ol’ boys in pickups swerving randomly between the inner and outer lanes. Like electrons in an unstable orbit, they occasionally shoot out, only to skid to a halt in a cloud of dust—sideways—in the back of a parking lot. If we’re going to have roundabouts in Idaho, the public should be warned of the dangers. The least DOT could do is put up signs notifying motorists that a demolition derby is in progress. No sense candy-coating it.

As bad as some drivers are, you’d think they wouldn’t try to complicate matters further. Unfortunately, this isn’t the case. According to the National Highway Transportation Safety Administration (NHTSA), in 2009 [the last year for which statistics are available] distracted drivers accounted for 20% of the injuries resulting from vehicular mishaps. Eating, texting, phoning: the sky’s the limit. Sometimes, one distraction just isn’t challenging enough for these juggernauts.  My all-time favorite was a guy I watched maneuvering through rush hour while reading a newspaper, drinking a cup of coffee, and watching the news on a flat screen. As he finished each section of the paper, he’d throw it out the window—dispose of properly! As an afterthought, he’d occasionally glance up at the road ahead. Strictly pro forma, you understand.

Distracted driving is nothing new. My uncle Ray; a traveling salesman who looked like a movie star, used to drive his convertible while steering with his knees as he combed his hair in the rear-view mirror. Once his coiffure was perfected, he’d favor his passengers with an evil grin before once again grabbing the wheel.

The problem with bad drivers is that normally, you can’t spot them until they’re double parked on the hood of your car. Not too many people want to admit to poor driving. But there are exceptions. Take my friend Stephanie for instance. Stephanie, as we’ll call her, freely admits to some issues in the driving department. “Oh yeah, I’m the worst!” she says. When asked about what she does to earn this distinction, she pauses… “When I catch a yellow light, I always speed up to get through it… Is that bad?” Well, I think, that all depends on whether I’m at the intersection with her or not. Of course, being a bad driver doesn’t preclude one from complaining about other drivers. “I can’t stand it when people don’t use their turn signals,” Stephanie says—she has her limits.

Not everyone is as honest as Stephanie. In many accidents, the drivers are barely out of their cars before the guilty party commences making excuses. These take many forms and range from the ingenious to the idiotic: weather, mechanical failure, my dog did it —even an unfavorable astrological sign might work in a pinch. Sports fans, adhering to the “best defense is a good offense” paradigm, will immediately blame the other driver. This happened to me when a speeder blew through a four-way stop and T-boned my car. As she explained to the cop, it was clearly my fault. I didn’t have my lights on, so she couldn’t see me. Squinting up into the bright noonday sun, I vowed to be more careful in the future.

So, who is to blame for poor driving in Idaho? Is our problem foreign or domestic? Enquiring minds want to know. Naturally, the bean counters in the audience demand hard numbers.  According to the 2009 NHTSA statistics, the national fatality rate was 1.1 deaths per 100 million vehicle miles. Meanwhile, the busy bees down in Utah had a rate of 0.9. Likewise, those city slickers from California came in under the national average at 1.0. As to Idaho… well, we scored a 1.5. Tied with Alaska, only seven states scored worse than us—with Montana having the distinction of being the most dangerous state for drivers with 2.0 deaths per 100 million vehicle miles.

Given these figures, I guess in the future we should be more circumspect in our criticism of out-of-state drivers. After all, safe driving is everyone’s responsibility. In the meantime, don’t let your guard down just because the car tailgating you has Idaho plates. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s almost time for the monster truck rally to begin down at the local roundabout….

           

BREAKING NEWS: As this story went to press, confidential sources within the automotive industry confirmed that all vehicles manufactured in the United States—even those intended for use in Idaho and Utah—really do come equipped with turn signals. Next time, why don’t you try using them?