It's a Duel, Man
I was driving down the highway with my wife at night. As usual, it was pitch black, because streetlights are a luxury sparse in this state. With just a few cars in sight, I was cruising along on cruise control to avoid speeding tickets.
Yet, one car started creeping up behind me, matching my speed and slowing down whenever I did. And then, there it was: the flashing blue lights. Police.
Immediately, all those worst-case YouTube clips flashed through my mind—smashed windows, handcuffs, you know the drill. But I also knew by now those are rare. My wife instantly told me to put my hands on the steering wheel so the officer could see them, and then she gave me the ultimate warning: “DON’T BE DUTCH.”
When I rolled down the window, the officer turned out to be pretty friendly. He asked for my papers and driver's license, walked back to his cruiser to check everything, and returned. Turns out he pulled me over for "weaving"—a term I had no clue about at the time. According to him, I had crossed the white line several times.
My Dutch side desperately wanted to start arguing the point, but remembering my instructions, I just said, “Okay.”
Next came the standard question: had I been drinking or using alcohol? I never touch the stuff, but obviously, he didn't know that. He also mentioned that while my Dutch license was valid, you can only drive on it for a limited time before you are legally required to get an American driver's license. He suspected I was past due and told me I should work on that. After a bit of talking, he let us go with a warning. He was even kind enough to answer a few of my questions regarding the differences between Dutch and American driving laws, but then another call came over his radio and he had to run.
Later that day, I looked up what "weaving" actually means. It’s a bit of a blanket charge used to pull anyone over. While most of them are easily overturned in court if you wish to fight it, it’s just an annoyance that can lead to several other fines if the officer is in a bad mood or if you get too mouthy. I guess me being a "good boy" really saved us some trouble.
Driving in the US is a completely different world compared to the Netherlands. I’ve already talked about the ridiculous amount of stop signs, which even Americans seem to either ignore or completely misuse. The way they treat those signs seems to bleed into their entire driving style: overly cautious or totally distracted.
Whenever there’s a turn or even a slight bend in the road, they slow down—sometimes to a crawl. Whenever a traffic light turns green, it takes ages for anyone to get moving. There is not a single Formula 1 racer in sight. You can literally see them putting their phone away, putting the car in gear, looking left, looking right, and then, oh so slowly, pulling up.
The same goes for crossroads. Even when I can clearly see there is absolutely no traffic coming from the left or the right, they act as if a intersection suddenly materialized out of thin air right in front of them. Brake, full stop, look left, look right, and again—slowly pull up. And that’s if you’re lucky. Even when they clearly have the right of way, they will gladly let someone from the left go first, wildly gesturing from inside the cabin. They completely forget that hardly anyone can see them because everyone drives with pitch-black tinted windows.
On the highway, the psychological games continue. People will drive at a set speed until you pass them (left or right, it doesn't matter here). Suddenly, they wake up, speed up, and pass you right back. Or worse, you pass them, and they speed up just enough to hang out directly in your blind spot on the right, trapping you so you can’t get back into the right lane.
And then there’s the big trucks—and I don't mean the pickups, but the massive commercial rigs. Back home, I was used to them being slower because they have a lower maximum speed limit than cars. There is no such thing in the US; we all share the same speed limit.
Because of the hilly terrain of West Virginia, these heavy trucks drive differently. When they go down a hill, they go DOWN THE HILL. As long as there is no bend in the road, they do not touch the brakes; they just speed up, using that terrifying downhill momentum to climb the next mountain.
I learned very quickly that you can never assume a truck is easy to pass. You have to keep a very close eye on your rearview mirror when you hit a descent. Going downhill here reminds me a bit too much of Steven Spielberg’s debut movie, Duel.
But don't let all of the above fool you: driving through West Virginia is still amazing, and it still relaxes me. I slowly seem to be letting go of the Dutch frustrations that come with driving—just a few more years! 😄
So now for the next hurdle: an American driver's license. I've already started studying for the driver's knowledge test, but there are still several hurdles to take before we get there. I'm sure there's enough material in that for another blog post entirely..