The Autobahn and Brokerbelle

The autobahn is like an expressway without speed limits. At least that is the way it used to be. These days the wonders of the autobahn are disappearing as German authorities put more and more areas on it where speed is controlled. Currently if you drive the autobahn you will go 10-20 kilometers without speed limits and then hit a speed zone of a 100 kilometers. I presume this is the German government's way of exercising more authority on a gradual basis, as good Germans do.

HarleyDad first met the autobahn when it was not so regulated. When I got back from Europe, people asked what I really liked. It wasn't Paris, the Queen of Cities. It was not the beer halls of Munich, the wonderful lakes and mountains of Switzerland or the wonderful museums--it was the autobahn.

The autobahn was wonderful. It was like being in the old West-every man for himself. It was a place of freedom and speed. Even though I had grown up in Texas, even in West Texas you did not quite have the same freedom to speed. You could always do so--but somewhere there was a "Smokey" and your ticket when you finally got one was going to be gigantic. So when I went to the autobahn, it was like a "druggie" going to Amsterdam. I thought I had gone to heaven.

Unfortunately, Brokerbelle thought she had gone to hell. What is all this non-sense about no speed limits. Brokerbelle was right in a way. It was her first trip to Europe and a friend had recommended that we take the Romanishe Strasse (the Romantic Road) leading from the castles in Southern Germany up to Rotenburg-the walled City. Someplace in the trip I had to get on the autobahn.

Now the Germans make cars that are suitable for the autobahn. The make large cars sometimes called strasse cruisers (street cruisers) with plenty of horse power. I love that name. It evokes images of large cruisers and even battleships floating over the concrete waves of the German streets. The large Mercedes and the BMW have plenty of horse power. Unfortunately, I was not driving a Mercedes or a BMW. I was driving a lower midlevel German Ford.

Brokerbelle rightly assumed that this Texas gunslinger was out gunned on the Autobahn. I would be driving full out and a big Mercedes would come roaring up behind me lights blinking and horn blaring as is customary on the autobahn. I would then pull over to the slower wimpy far right lane. Well this occured on several occasions.

Finally Brokerbelle had had enough! She gets upset and demands for me to let her out of the car. She has decided she will walk. Well, Brokerbelle does not have any German money, we are in the middle of a German highway far from any city, and she does not speak a word of German. However Brokerbelle can be a determined young lady. So I finally make peace, and move to the far right lane with the trucks and other those autos driven by those who do not have courage and adventure in their hearts. Brokerbelle decides to continue the trip with me and I do not have to explain to the children how I lost their mother in Germany.

Being on the autobahn is a heady feeling, and it takes a Brokerbelle or someone else in their right mind to bring sanity out of this German insanity. I must confess, however, that when I am in Germany on business and Brokerbelle is not along, I still sneak off to the autobahn for a little fun. And it is still my favorite thing in Europe!!

HarleyDad