Jess is driving right now. We’re in a 2015 Ford F350 six pack long bed towing a 23 foot 1972 Airstream Safari tandem axle trailer. All totaled we’re looking at 60 feet or so in length. We’ve had a running joke talking about the rules for driving a large slow vehicle. We have turned it into a set of chants, almost a mantra.
I am a large slow moving vehicle. I will make slow well indicated lane changes.
I will look all the way to the horizon for things that may need a reaction, for I am slow to stop and not nimble enough to swerve.
I will stay in the right hand lane, for the fast lane is no place for me. Danger and stress and crying are in that lane and I will only use it when I must pass a shower vehicle, and even then only after much contemplation.
I will forgo close in parking spaces and resign myself to walking from the boonies.
I will not turn without ensuring my blinkers have been well and truly blunked, and all other cars know my intentions.
Parking lots are treacherous dangerous confined spaces. I will not attempt to enter a parking lot unless I have an exit strategy already in place.
Those yellow caution signs that everyone else ignores actually carry information meant for me. I shall obey them, there is truth in their words.
I will not yield the right lane nor change speed when you blindly enter the freeway. You are light and nimble and I am a large slow moving vehicle. I’m the rock you must swim around.
I don’t do Drive-Throughs. For my rear end is large and 40 feet behind me.