Ride Along

I went on a ride along with my flatmate Mike. He works for an independent rapid response company that listens and responds to police calls. They primarily attend to car accident and stabbing victims, but have known to be called to hostage situations and similar events. He is one of the top medics in the whole of South Africa primarily because of his speedy response time. It is hard to get anywhere fast in South Africa, especially since life. here. is. so. slow. The need for these independent companies is great, due to the fact that the government prides itself on having a rapid response time of two hours. Could you imagine waiting for two hours if you were in an emergency, such as a car accident? I would call Mike.

Yesterday was probably not the best day to choose such an adventure because of what could have been waiting at the accident site, but it certainly was worthwhile (If there would have been blood and guts my Thanksgiving hunger pains would have disappeared completely, which would be DEVASTATING). He received the call and stated that if anybody wanted to ride along to the car accident they would have to be ready in 15 seconds. So, I grabbed some shoes and was first in line at the door, followed by Christina. We raced down to Mike's car (A new, especially nice Audi) and were told to buckle up tight. I thought I was prepared for what came next, but quickly discovered that one could never be prepared for such a thing.

Speeding off toward the accident, we weaved through traffic. Crazy weaving. The time was 5:30. Rush Hour. It was bumper to bumper traffic almost everywhere we went and still, we never slowed down. Mike knows the EXACT dimentions of his automobile because we fit into places that I was sure were too small. And at a really fast speed. We drove through rough terrain and made our own lanes when needed by driving through the middle of traffic. We drove in the lanes of opposing traffic, as if they were our own. The road was felt like it was at our mercy. It is amazing to feel the power of being able to direct all of those cars.

I was both scared and exhilarated. My adrenaline was pumping more than it did while skydiving. I kept watching the spedometer move higher and higher. We maxed out at around 185 kilometers an hour, which converts to about 115 mph. I was sure that some driver wouldn't be paying attention or be able to pull over fast enough, and that we would hit them. If a car wasn't far enough over to the side, we would swerve around it, moving other cars even further out of the way. It was strange how it all happened.

The accident wasn't bad. An older gentleman had jumped a guard rail in his car, and crossed two lanes of traffic and went into a ditch. He had a couple of minor cuts, but nothing that needed significant attention. His car was completely totaled though, and the front end smashed in because of the impact. The police, ambulance and fire truck arrived shortly after us, which I found amusing.

Driving back to the loft was a pain. We actually had to sit in rush hour traffic, which took over 5x as long as getting there. No worries though. We got back with plenty of time to get ready for dinner!