I’ve discovered the slowest car on the road and wonder if this discovery is consistent across the country.
In my neck of the woods, there appears to be some kind of legal obligation to control the speed of these particular cars, probably in an effort to promote slower speeds in other drivers.
The actual result, though, is road rage. That’s especially true when stuck behind one of these cars when late to a party to view the NFC championship game.
I’m willing to bet that very few people have ever been passed by the slowest car ever: the Chrysler Town & Country. Here in Washington, the vans must come equipped with speed-limiting governors, legal contracts for slowness or drivers who lack the ability to put pressure on their right foot.
Whatever the reason, the one car you never want to see when you’re in a hurry is the Chrysler minivan.
I didn’t believe this fact when I heard the news from my dad earlier yesterday. I thought it was an unfair stereotype of Chrysler van drivers, but then came the event I shall hereby refer to simply as The Incident.
On a road with a 35-mph speed limit, I was traveling at a steady 38-40 on my way to the viewing party. I didn’t want to risk missing the kickoff, so my gas pedal was definitely getting a workout. That is, until The Incident. The white van in front of me lumbered at maybe 25 mph, causing severe consternation in a vehicle full of savage Seahawks fans.
The only thing standing between us and an open road leading to an on-time arrival was that van.
A line of traffic formed behind my car. The open road ahead taunted me. There was no safe place to pass. The clock ticked toward 3:30. Then past 3:30. Then to 3:45.
Because of this sluggishly slow van, we did miss the kickoff. We also missed the first fumble. And the first field goal.
On the bright side, though, we caught the rest of the game and drove home as happy Seahawks fans, without a Town & Country anywhere in sight.
In your experience, what’s the slowest car on the road?