Minnesota is the capital of dangerous drives.
PS. Little '300' reference for those who haven't seen it.
Driving through Minnesota is like running the not-so-metaphorical gauntlet. Its a good ol' smackdown with Darwin, mud and Jell-O included. Minnesotans have perfected the art of trial by car. Sometimes you make it, sometimes you don't. Only the strong and gutsy survive. When in doubt, cover your eyes and dive right into traffic. Its what all the cool kids are doing.
My driving abilities are what makes me feel like an outsider. I rarely go more than 15 MPH over. 10 MPH is my usual cut off point when I'm not on my friend 169. However, that's not enough to make it on these roads. I've got soccer moms (the sort that do wear lipstick, not those roguish pitbull types) and old ladies shaking their fists at me. I've always believed that just because you can go right on red that doesn't mean you should...here, turning right on red seems to give everyone a free pass to bolt into traffic, wishing luck to any unfortunates in their way.
I've never seen anything so brutal since my near death at the hand of Belgium bicyclists.
Of course it doesn't help that any road within 30 miles of Minneapolis was designed by a kid with a box of crayons.
Cooky accents aside, I have a newfound respect for Minnesotans. The fact that any of reach ages past that of 16, when they acquire their license, and reproduce a master work in and of itself.
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