Who knew you had a number? You who now sport parallel yellow lines down your center, and crisp white boundaries down each edge.

You had no lines, and only crumbled edges when I learned to drive on you. Everyone drove down the middle since the edges crumbled away – maybe because you were gravel dredged from creeks in Stewart County, and pressed into hot asphalt.

When I drove on you in my youth, you were Jones Mill Road –  never highway 141.

It was driving on you that I first felt the urge to go fast and then faster. There was a short straight stretch where sometimes I would see how fast I could go before I had to slow down for the curves. 90-95 was about the best I could do. While traveling at such high rates of speed in my Mom’s station wagon, I dreamed that I could be a race car driver, or maybe that I was a race car driver. This is probably something we’d best keep to ourselves…