The first thing that comes to mind when I think of Indianapolis is the famous Indy 500 event. The GPS begs to differ. It took me more than five attempts with voice control to get GM’s in-car GPS to comply with my command to navigate me to Indianapolis, not Minneapolis. Every moorhead knows what it is, but everyone who really has a passion for driving will find it lacking. Drivers racing against each other in an oval is just too American for me to comprehend. You might as well just let tire pressure do the work for you and focus on overtaking as if it were a straight line.
Even though speed freaks will disagree with me saying that going around in circles is the best way for you to accelerate in an infinite loop without loosing too much to turning moment, I still like my curves. Americans have made the motor car an icon of their “liberty”, yet their cars lack character and mechanical prowess. I like my cars with small efficient engines, nimble handling that can do US-14 at 80 miles an hour, responsive so I can connect with the road, and in manual transmission so I – the driver – can select the most efficient gear ratio for the situation.
When the federal National Road system was established in the 1920s, one of the first routes – US Route 40, connected Atlantic City, NJ to San Francisco, CA through Indianapolis. It remained one of the country’s main east-west thoroughfares until the 1970s when the Interstate system was completed.
It’s not just racing and cars. Indianapolis is the state capital of Indiana, unlike Minneapolis, which was named after the state and is not the state capital of Minnesota. The State Capitol, US District Court, and Soldiers and Sailors Memorial are all clustered around Memorial Circle. There are many great steakhouses serving the state’s political elite, but I saved space for authentic soul food in Louisville.
