I love doing that!

One in the morning.

Headed home from work.

The Nissan Frontier, 112,000 miles, is humming along. Needs a tune up, oil change and a bunch of other stuff. Still on the original belts and plugs. Just got its second set of tires.

A million people live around this outer belt but the road is empty just now. I drive for miles by myself.

Get near the east side and some cars are catching up to me. With a mile and a half to go to the exit, some guy gets right behind me. He has a lane on the left and two more on the right to get by but he just sits there. Must be a NASCAR fan, he's drafting.

I pick up the pace, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70.

Here comes another one. He swings out to the left to take both of us but I won't have it, we're too close to the exit. 71, 72, 73, 74, 75. He falls back into line.

The exit is one of those 270 degree round abouts going from one freeway to another. Over the bridge, down to the right, under the bridge.

I'm still at 75 half way across the bridge when I start haulin in the brakes. They're still drafting me at this point but I won't look back anymore.

Keep your eyes level with the horizon, don't lean your head into the turn.

I'm on the brakes right to my lowest speed, about a third of the way around then it's back on the gas. Decelerate, accelerate, there isn't anything else.

I don't pull too hard at first, I know I'm not very good, just better than most of the people on the street.

At two thirds through, I can really put the pedal to the metal and hit I-70 at 70.

I'm switching the cruise control back on when I check the mirror. There is one hundred yards or more between me and the guy that was on my bumper a minute ago.

I love doing that!