Could it be that making good wine is not the only thing the French do better?

It’s hard for me to admit that I’ve had a Maryland driver’s license for just 48 months shy of 50 years, but it’s the truth.

It’s even harder for me to admit that not 48 minutes after compiling background information for this topic, I was pulled over by a deputy with the Frederick County Sheriff’s Office for exceeding the speed limit in a 40 mile per hour zone.

With that said, I’m happy to report that the patrolman chose to only give me a warning, thus avoiding a $90 speeding ticket!

While I must admit that there have been more than a “few” instances where I deserved to be pulled over, I have had very few traffic violations in the over 200,000 days of commandeering the wheel on the roads.

Now if there is anything that will jinx me … that statement surely will!!!

As my friend Farrell Keough often states … “But I digress!”

So … my wife Nancy and I recently returned from a wonderful vacation in France where we drove through the Rhone River Valley and the eastern portion of the French Riviera.  We clocked over 1,600 kilometers (about 1,000 miles) in 10 days.

We have traveled in Europe before, and more often than not, rented a car to forge through our planned customized trip.  If you’ve never driven through the European mainland, while the cars and trucks are smaller, driving takes place on the right side of the road as we Americans are accustomed.

After flying all night, we arrived in the Mediterranean town of Nice, France at about 1:00 PM.  Our mission was to drive north about 350 kilometers to the ancient Roman hill towns east of the Rhone River.

Unlike the Norwegians who have literally drilled hundreds of incredibly long tunnels through mountains (some as long as 27 miles!) to make their roads straight, the French have chipped away very curvy narrow roads along cliffs overlooking wonderful views of the surrounding scenery.

That’s until one ventures onto the French national highways.  Here we found wide open roads with three lanes on either side of the median.

As the day wore on toward what would be referred to as rush hour the number of vehicles increased every kilometer.  Incredibly there was little to no congestion.

It became very apparent to us the French do something much better than those in the North American melting pot.

What could that be?

Drivers in Europe for the most part are very good at practicing something known as “Lane Courtesy.”

While it is part of all states’ driver’s education manuals, the concept of respecting the left lane as only a passing lane, is clearly something foreign to the average American.

How often have you pulled on to an interstate highway, found yourself behind a slow moving truck in the right lane, and moved to the left only to find another slow moving driver leading a line of impatient motorists as they look for an opportunity to pass via the right lane?

I learned the lesson of lane courtesy a few months after passing my drivers test.  I was 16. With the top down on my 1964 Ford Fairlane 500 convertible, the radio blaring out current Rock & Roll tunes through WPGC 1580 AM, I was actually cruising at the speed limit … in the left lane on Interstate 70S between Rockville and Gaithersbug.

It so happened that I was driving perfectly parallel to another vehicle in the right lane of the then two lane highway.    Happy that I was driving the speed limit, I was oblivious to the fact that there were at least 15 cars following the two of us in each lane.

After about 5 miles of keeping up with each other, my counterpart to the right exited the highway.

The next thing I knew, there appeared an extremely angry man in a car on my right.  Yelling at the top of his lungs over my radio playing the latest hit from Freddie and the Dreamers “I’m Telling You Now,” I received a fast X-Rated refresher course on Lane Courtesy.

Even more so that any angry instructive lecture I received from my father in those days, that moment has resonated with me over my 200,000 days behind the wheel.

Back then Americans actually respected the left lane.  Even though there are more people on the highways now, there were fewer lanes and traffic did flow much better in peak traffic hours.

Being the conservative that I am, it’s hard for me to imagine that I would return from the socialist country of France boasting the people of that nation do something better than we Americans other than making great wines and cheese.

Five years ago in the heat of what is always an intense political County Commissioner election, traffic congestion along our interstate highways was major campaign issue.  Along with several other folks, I took part in a bi-partisan local issue political action committee (PAC) known as the Committee to Unlock Frederick Gridlock.

The group invested countless hours in researching solutions to the congestion we all experience along our interstate highways, as well as US Route 15.  Candidates were polled on whether they would support state and federal funding to widen I-270 and Route 15.

While the effort definitely raised awareness to the issue, not much was really accomplished in Annapolis.  Of course the bottom fell out of the real estate market and the economy leaving governmental coffers at all levels strapped for cash.

But after reflecting on how well the traffic flowed on the highways of our friends in France, clearly there are some steps that individual drivers could practice that just might assist in alleviating some of that congestion that we face on our major roads.

The National Motorists Association (NMA) has spent a tremendous amount of effort on the issue of “Lane Courtesy.”  Its website provides the reader with an opinion of how the concept was given a death sentence when President Richard Nixon signed into law the 55 mile per hour National Speed Limit.

 It claims that this one act started a culture change in American driving habits, by creating a mindset that as long as one drove the speed limit, it really did not matter what lane you resided in.

The NMA states that the concept of only using the left lane for passing has been lost to an entire generation of drivers.

For those of us old enough to recall those days, I think they’re on to something.

The organization promotes the proper practice of lane courtesy, by using one’s turn signal when changing lanes, and then “politely” flashing one’s headlamps to request the slow driver in the left lane to move right.

I must admit I have used this method several times when driving on the interstates.  Unfortunately, in about 50% the cases the driver in front of me has no clue what I’m trying to signal, ignores me or becomes agitated and slows down out of spite.

Many states have laws dictating the proper use of the left lane, but they are rarely enforced except in cases where a driver is moving well below the speed limit.

So what can one take away from all this pontification of the topic of Lane Courtesy?

For me it has made me more aware that my left lane highway driving practices have been good.  But I have also found that with my heightened level of awareness that the French drivers are better than we Americans … has increased my level of frustration with slow left laners.

Could my impatience lead me down the path of road rage?

Hmmmm … I guess I will have to let you know the results of my next encounter with a highway patrolman!

Stay tuned!

Rocky Mackintosh, President, MacRo, Ltd., a Land and Commercial Real Estate firm based in Frederick, Maryland. He is an appointed member of the Frederick County Charter Board. He also writes forTheTentacle.com and Want2Dish.com.

This is a reprint of Rocky Mackintosh’s September 20th article in TheTentacle.com.

I have decided to change things up this week by writing about a little adventure that I am about to embark on tomorrow.  As I am now officially about to begin my seventh decade of life (for those who were not math majors, that’s 61 years of age), I will be able to check off one more item from my bucket list: a 16 day white water trip down the Colorado River for 225 miles through the Grand Canyon.

But it’s not just me, my wife Nancy, Frederick Memorial Healthcare System‘s president Tom Kleinhanzl and his wife Susan will make the 9.5 mile hike from the South Rim to Phantom Ranch to join our group for the last 10 exhilarating days of the trip.

Nancy and I have part-taken in several white water trips over the years, but this one is dubbed the crème de la crème of river experiences. Having a passion for the outdoors and our National Parks, the Grand Canyon is a place we’ve visited many times at several points along the perimeter along both the North and South Rims. In addition my nephew and I spent enjoyed the challenge of a terrific week long hike into the bowels of the canyon from Grandview Point in 1998.

My trip begins in Flagstaff, Arizona, on Tuesday, September 21st where the six or so guides representing our outfitter O.A.R.S./Grand Canyon Dories gathers the 14 brave souls for orientation and distribution of some essential equipment: water proof bag for personal items, sleeping bag and a coffee cup!

The next day we head north up the river by van for our “put-in” point just 15 miles below the Lake Powell Dam — a very historical spot known as Lee’s Ferry which was established as a crossing for Mormon colonists in 1864 as they traveled west into Utah.

Our guides are well versed in the history and geology of the region. While this trip will be an exciting outdoor adventure of hiking and tackling some of the wildest white water in the world, it is equally enjoyable to become more educated about the evolution of the natural treasure, its ancient Indian activity, and the impact that modern man has had on the region – beginning with Pedro de Cardenas who discovered the abyss in 1540, which was declared by his leader Francisco Vàsquez de Coronado as having no value.

The vessel of choice will be a dory. This is not a large 7 person inflatable raft which is the most often and more flexible method of travel … and it is surely not a canoe! Dories are lightweight wooden boats with high sides, flat bottoms and sharp bows. They average about 16 to 23 feet in length and are about the closet modern vessel to that of the Canyon’s first river expeditioner Major John Wesley Powell. This one-armed Union civil war veteran used the wooden boat to explore the Colorado River through the Canyon on his amazing 1868 expedition. For sure the experience of tackling the rapids will be a bit enhanced over that of the inflatable raft.

A capsulated description of the trip is described on the O.A.R.S. website stating that it offers “all the scenery, side canyons and whitewater excitement … with the glories of Marble Canyon, the mysteries of the Inner Gorge, terrific side hikes and Indian ruins, crystalline creeks and waterfalls, cactus gardens and whitewater galore. The Colorado’s whitewater covers the full spectrum of foaming ripples to the notorious churning roar of Lava Falls. [There is] plenty of time to explore the numerous side canyons which crisscross this magnificent region, each having it’s own unique attractions, just waiting to be discovered by foot. Along the way we may encounter … wildlife including bighorn sheep, deer, coyote and a variety of birds.”

If you’ve ever enjoyed a roller coaster ride, hitting Class 10 rapids (while Class 5 is the highest, the Grand Canyon has its own rating system of classifying rapids) is the ultimate rolling experience. Hermit Rapid and Lava Falls are two of the most famous. The former ranges from a Class 6 to 7 with a 10 foot drop, and the latter takes the dories on a 15 foot drop through a Class 10 experience. I can’t wait!

Our trip will end at Diamond Creek just 75 miles north of the Hoover Dam. Along this small tributary into the Grand Canyon, we’ll ascend 4,600 feet of elevation along a gravel road through the Hualapai Indian Reservation to return to Flagstaff.

So, while I will have my digital camera, all other technology and communication devices — including my Crackberry — will be put aside in exchange for sleeping out under a black sky filled with a galaxy of natural light that has more shooting stars than you can imagine.

Ah, Solitude! … and a bit of excitement in real estate’s grand abyss!