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PERSONAL SAFETY Even on Ga. 400, slow down and keep things mellow
Even on Ga. 400, slow down and keep things mellow
STAY SAFE
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Steve Rose is a retired Sandy Springs Police captain, veteran Fulton County police officer and freelance writer. He is the author the book “Why Do My Mystic Journeys Always Lead to the Waffle House?” and the column “View from a Cop.”
I work part-time in Sandy Springs and live in Forsyth County, 32 miles north, right on the cusp of Dawsonville, where local ordinances require one to have at least one NASCAR number on the rear window and a copy of the Dawsonville Pool Room menu in the glove box.
Getting to and from work puts me on Ga. 400. I have driven as Northside Hospital. The concrete median barrier was once a grassy stretch between the north and southbound lanes, offering a nice spot for running Doppler radar.
By the way, most folks associate Doppler radar with weather radar, that giant circling line that, when it turns from yellow to red, the weather reporter rolls his sleeves up and undoes his tie as you run for the basement, then back for the nachos you just microwaved, then back to the basement.
The older speed detection devices were of the Doppler variety, named after Christian Doppler, who discovered what is called “The Doppler Effect.” He proved how the frequency of light and sound waves is affected by the relative motion of the source and the detector.
Doppler radar shot a signal at the target area. Once the car entered the area, the signal bounced back and forth, each time measuring a different distance, and formulated speed.
It was said that Doppler’s flaw was that at times it succumbed to interference from stationary objects. Many billboard lawyers used this defense in court, as would I, quite frankly. (Side note, my personal best was a pine tree at 94 MPH.)
Once the vehicle came into the Doppler zone, it created a whining sound that grew louder as the vehicle approached, waking the operator, who had fallen off for a quick 10-minute, 2 a.m. nap.
Eventually, Doppler became obsolete, replaced by several newer generations of radar and eventually, laser. Laser is “point and click.” That is all I know. I see ads for jamming devices but I do not know what is or is not effective so I will not expand on it.
Back to Ga. 400. If you travel Ga. 400 frequently, you will see those who have no regard for safety, theirs or yours, as they zip in and out of traffic lanes. I thought evening rush hour(s) were the worst, but lately, the morning drive appears to compete quite nicely.
I find it odd that anyone would want to get to work that quickly. I am quite sure those who speed in and out of lanes — especially those on motorcycles (that, at times, hit well over 100 mph) — have seen up close what impact does to the human body at such speeds.
Here is a hint: it ain’t pretty.
on and enforced traffic on Ga. 400 since right after it was built and stretched only as far south
Impress your friends. Read Rough Draft.
We are not at our best behind the wheel. In fact, we become that selfish ____ (&$($&) that everyone hates to see on the road.
We tend to think of our cars as individual kingdoms that call for a quick response to challenges by anyone who dare to impede our journey! As drivers, we drop down on the mental food chain of life, to that just below the brightly colored Poison Dart Frog of Central and South America, an animal that looks for trouble. That is how bad we are behind the wheel.
Vehicle engineering prioritizes safety. Racecars, such as NASCAR and Formula 1 racers, are designed to absorb and displace the energy of a crash. Major car manufacturers follow along those same lines, but at high speeds seatbelts and airbags may not keep your body from extensive injury.
The interior of a car can collapse from the force of impact and speed, leaving no room for the human inside. That’s a done deal with no doover.
Motorcycles at 100 mph? At that speed, and I am not exaggerating the speed, there is no time to react to the lane change by the car whose driver last saw you one second ago a quarter mile back.
The philosophy that comes from all this is that speed on the highway is never your friend— unless you are running from dinosaurs or athletic zombies.
Slow down. Use the 70-RightMellow Rule: 70 mph, right lane and play some mellow tunes.
I suggest old soft rock, nothing by AC/DC mind you. Leave that for riding mower on Saturdays.
Mellow tunes will get you there.
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