I refuse to warn other drivers of speed patrols - nor should you

I did a bold thing.

Since Irish roads turned into the Wild West a few years ago, I’ve been honked at, tailgated, ed out on hairpin bends, and otherwise harassed and intimidated for obeying the speed limits.

Always, I felt I was on my own out there – I hadn’t seen a roadblock or even a mobile Garda speed check operation since the pandemic. They’re as scarce as hens’ teeth on the roads these days, much, alas, like the gardaí themselves.

But now, this day, here was one.

A speed check!

And I was on their side.

As I drove home along a narrow, winding road, an oncoming van driver flashed his headlights at me and flapped his hand up and down in the universal ‘reduce your speed’ gesture.

I wasn’t going fast anyway. Given the lethal behaviour of Irish drivers – teenagers tearing along at 183km an hour, adults bombing through villages at 150km per hour in 50km zones, drivers failing to stop at junctions, all of them exhibiting this new, crazed, toxic impatience at the drivers who do obey the speed limits - I have become curmudgeonly about speed.

I continued on and soon, to my relief and deep approval, I saw a yellow-and-blue Garda patrol car, tucked away neatly into a bend in the road. And that’s when I did the bold thing.

I drove sedately past that patrol car, utterly failing to flash my lights or make collegially-minded hand signals at any of the oncoming vehicles.

Many of them were bombing it, despite the regular presence of walkers and cyclists on this road.

Good enough for the lot of you, I thought, as they flew past me.

I hope you get royally screwed.

Only a couple of hours earlier, further along that same road, an enormous juggernaut had roared up behind me and tailgated me.

What such a massive vehicle was even doing on a tiny back road like this, I truly don’t know. But I wasn’t going nearly fast enough for him so he made determined efforts to intimidate me into exceeding the speed limit.

This technique included roaring up behind me to the point that his giant three-storey-cruise-ship of a vehicle was literally only inches from the boot of my car. I was terrified, but staunchly refused to exceed the speed limit for his convenience.

Only a few days earlier, three minutes after driving out of my own gate, I narrowly avoided being smashed into a blood-and-bones omelette by a very large two-part SUV (the ones that look like wasps) which rounded a corner and tore down the wrong side of the road towards me.

I could see, as he approached, that the driver was looking down – at his phone. I slowed to a crawl, honked, honked, and honked again. He eventually looked up and pulled back into his own side of the road. An apologetic little beep and a hand-wave and the moron was gone.

An apologetic beep and a hand-wave for nearly killing me?

The week previously, I was almost hit by a young fellow shooting out of a junction without looking.

I’ve seen drivers crossing the white line at speed and nearly crashing into oncoming motorists because, oh yeah, they’re looking at their phones.

Two days ago, I was in a line of traffic following a tractor. A small car driven by a young male came out and around from the very back of our convoy and overtook the lot of us – about five or six vehicles in all, including the tractor – crossing a continuous white line on a bend. On a bad bend.

A few weekends ago, I was a enger in a car travelling through a remote and scenic part of this proud county.

As we drove, a long convoy of motorcycles roared past us on the other side of this narrow and winding coastal route. They were going at eye-watering speed. Despite the very visible presence of many hikers, walkers and cyclists. Despite the fact that some of the walkers were clearly pushing babies in buggies. Along this very narrow road without footpaths.

We were horrified and concerned. At our request, our driver honked the horn and flashed his lights at some of the bikes in an effort to get them to slow down and make them aware of the hazard they were posing to pedestrians and cyclists.

Their response? Open the throttle, increase the volume of the roars, and bloody well go even faster. So we rang the gardaí. Who took down the details and promised to send a car.

To the most enormous relief of everyone in our vehicle, within 10 or 15 minutes a garda car ed by us on the other side of the road, clearly in the process of chasing down the motorbike miscreants.

Times have changed.

Warning other drivers that a speed patrol is up ahead is no longer a collegial, friendly, thoughtful, ‘we’re all in it together’ thing to warn other drivers about the presence of a garda patrol ahead. It’s frankly irresponsible.

What you’re doing is possibly enabling a careless, speeding driver to cause a serious accident and, let’s be honest here, kill or permanently injure your partner, your child, your friend, your relative, your elderly uncle or aunt. 

Ever think about it that way?

Think about it that way the next time you’re minded to flash your lights, make hand signals at, or otherwise warn oncoming lunatics of the presence of a garda traffic patrol vehicle up ahead.