Why I love the A303

I like to think of myself as a Driver.  Not just someone who happens to drive, mind you, an actual Driver.  With a capital D.  I see a car not as an object or a tool to be controlled, but as an extension of my own body.  The wheels are my limbs, gripping to the road and telling me all about the road surface.  The engine is a muscle, delivering power when and how I determine, and which needs rest and exercise to operate properly.  And the driver’s seat, the steering wheel, the pedals, the gear stick, are all part of my central nervous system, delivering the impulses from my brain to the respective parts of the extended body.  Driving, for me, is not about getting from A to B – it’s about living life in an augmented reality.

And the A303 is a fantastic road to experience that reality.  I’ve been driving on it a lot recently, and each journey has built upon the last my love and appreciation for what, for many, is just a road.  You see, the A303 isn’t like a motorway.  It’s slower, certainly, but it’s more scenic, more interesting to drive, and requires more skill to navigate effectively.  Now, I’m not saying that you have to be a qualified driver to make it all the way down the road, it’s not exactly precarious, but being a Driver means I can appreciate and embrace all the twists and turns, the adverse cambers, the ever-changing gradients, the varying speed limits, the wavering lane widths, the unpredictable surface quality.  For someone trying to get from A to B, the A303 is an inefficient pain in the neck that urgently needs resurfacing and making dual-carriageway the entire length of it.  And that’s why I love it so.

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