The steering on the Mustang was so sensitive that I had to be very careful not to oversteer it. Once past Santa Fe, the road narrowed down to two lanes with very few passing lanes. Sunday traffic was busy and I did not feel like the Mustang was really such a great sportscar. It did zoom up and down the hills with a lot of verve, but, in the long run, I thought the extra $40 I paid was wasted.
Driving back to Albuquerque this morning, I changed my mind about the car. More rested than I had been Sunday, relaxed and in good spirits from visiting June and Bob, I took the wheel and fairly flew down the road. And I wasn't speeding! There was no one else driving, the steering felt natural in my hands, and the lusciious countryside seemed designed just to make me happy.
I drove along mountain meadows with sunflowers in roadside profusion, all facing the morning sun. I drove along rolling hills, covered with dark green forests of mostly pine trees. In the background, great, rocky, grey massifs loomed over the landscape. Slowing down for a twisty turn, I came upon a doe along the verge. She hardly gave me a glance and even didn't bother to run away. I guess she's seen more than her share of speeding cars and wasn't impressed with mine.
As I got into New Mexico, the terrain began to shift away from tree-covered hills and mountains and into sere bluffs in the vivid reds, yellows, and purples that Georgia O'Keefe painted. The roads began to congest and the lovely smoothness of zipping along a peaceful highway disappeared. But I didn't mind. My hour or so of sportscar heaven made the $40 worthwhile. And while I never need to drive a Mustang again, I'm glad I did it this once.
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