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Column: Driving 20 on 80

The sun dogs were out last week and while driving on County Highway 80 into Perham I came a fishtail or two from taking out the Silver Moon.

That stretch of road from State Highway 10 to the St. Henry cemetery might be the worst stretch of road in the vicinity.

It's a good thing it's straight.

On Wednesday morning, it looked like a Zamboni had been used to glaze over the road rather than a truck with any salt or sand.

It was a skating rink out there.

I employed the strategy of most small sedan drivers. With the white knuckles of death, I drove right down the middle stripe. It was not visible, but the crown in the road gave it away.

I will drive on dirty snow over glare ice any day. The sun and its two half-sky-high dogs glared through my windshield highlighting the filth on the glass and the fact that should I hit a top speed of 30 that truck coming at me might be in for it.

Foot off the gas, turn the tunes down, brace for impact.

I really need to upgrade to four-wheel drive.

For, the guy coming at me buzzed by like I was the old guy in the walker on the sidewalk speeding by stuck commuter traffic in the opening scene of the movie "Office Space."

Which reminds me of much worse traffic. I used to live in Dallas and the filming of "Office Space" was done in Richardson and Plano, Texas, where I used to work.

Every time I defy death on rural Minnesota roads, I recall five lanes of speeding lunatics trying to die on the way to work on Interstate 75 in Big D.

Cigarette butts fly by vehicles like snowflakes in December.

When there's a crash, a helicopter and the Jaws of Life are necessary to extricate the bodies from the twisted metal of minivan meeting SUV and a couple compact rental cars.

My worst nightmare is to die on the road on the way to work. It just seems like such a lame way to go.

In Dallas, I faced it every day.

One particular incident left over 1,000 cars, plus me, stranded on the interstate as the bodies covered multiple lanes at 8 a.m.

I phoned the boss.

"Yeah, we've got bodies on I-75. Looks like I'm going to be here awhile."

Two hours later, I was motioned by a police officer to turn around, drive the wrong way on the interstate to the next exit and take the frontage road around the carcasses.

Now, in waiting out those two hours, one is forced into group mentality.

Like zombies, drivers stalled behind you exit their vehicles. They start to walk past to see how close they can get to the wreckage.

After awhile, you can't help it. You have to moo along.

There they are. The two bodies now stuffed in bags.

Just imagine.

"Hey Bob how was your morning?"

"Oh, not bad, aside from the dead bodies."

It is quite distressing to witness the dead on the way to work; it makes a 20 mph potential wipeout into the Silver Moon parking lot seem rather miniscule.

The following is just a personal request.

Can we get some more sand out there?

No lie, that road is nasty.