As the driver and I approached each other, we both decided to pull into respective lay-bys on either side of the lane to allow the other to pass. I gestured at her to go first, but before she could move, a car came from nowhere behind me and overtook at speed, zooming between us on a perilously narrow strip of road. I shook my head, the woman shrugged, we shared a disbelieving smile and no doubt the same thought: drivers who don’t respect the unwritten rules of this country road are a total menace.
There seem to be increasing numbers of them near where I live in Rutland, and I suspect that some, not from the area and using it as a short cut, will be unaware that these rules exist. The questionable 60mph speed limit and zero police presence are additional draws.
Earlier this month, road safety charity IAM RoadSmart asked motorists to disregard satnav suggestions to divert on to rural roads to save time when congestion was predicted on major roads. Some 54 per cent of drivers report having been instructed to do so, causing “traffic volumes that exceed what the road is designed for”, said Nicholas Lyes, the charity’s director of policy, who “would encourage people to question if a diversion on to an unclassified or single-track route is worth saving a few minutes, considering the increased hazards they might face”.
According to the Department for Transport, 60 per cent of road deaths in Britain happen on rural roads, despite them carrying just 45 per cent of traffic.
Having spent 17 years as a motorist in London, followed by eight years driving around the East Midlands countryside, I’m not surprised.
The combination of the all-knowing, speedy locals with the perpetually lost city daytrippers, who still retain their urban pushiness, creates this danger.
A proliferation of speed cameras, traffic lights and police in the capital make it nigh-on impossible to exceed 30mph, and once you get the hang of bus lanes, congestion zones and exiting a junction with confidence, I think driving there is fairly idiot-proof.
Navigating rural roads, however, is a vigilante free-for-all, necessitating in-depth understanding of human psychology, the patience of a saint and nerves of steel.