Philadelphia's Dangerous Delight

It's a Saturday morning in the winter of 1981 and the Drivers Ed classroom at the CenterCity 3As school for wanna-be-wee-wheelers is deathly silent. The instructor has just switched-off the clickety-clackety 16mm projector and we teens are awash in sober quiet, with images of blood and flayed-flesh marinating our minds.

We've just witnessed  "Drink, Drive, Rationalize," featuring the brutal automotive-artery-dicing deaths of a half-dozen fictional yet similarly judgement-challenged peers.
"Do you know the most dangerous road in Philadelphia?" the instructor boomed rhetorically.
"It is Lincoln Drive and  it is a raceway of death! Do you hear me?!"
We did. And, of course, we couldnt wait to find out for ourselves as soon as we were licensed. Nearly 30 years later, the Lincoln Drive hammer and sickle brigade has yet to come calling, despite the ongoing irresistable urge to cruise its slender, tight curves at suspension-shifting speeds.
Yes it's wrong, Yes it's stupid, Yes its the closest I can get to reliving my all-time peak Farfegnugin driving-experience some 20 years ago in the Napa Valley. So here's to you Lincoln Drive, with your soaring Wissahickon/Henry Avenue Bridge and easy access to Weaver's Way Coop.
With respect to the residents who suffer the mayhem along your curbs, you are an engineering and driving delight worthy of awe and respect.