Driving Gives Me Joy

A car is freedom. It allows you to go wherever you want. A car is speed. It causes landscapes to flash by, sun & shadow blink and wind to rush in your face. A car is independence and control. You choose where you'll go, how to get there and when & where to stop along the way.

I always feel better when I go for a drive. Even driving to mundane chores or a doctor visit gives me a feeling of exuberance.

For example: 1985. Driving a candy apple red, 1976 F150 from the doctor's office at Tahlequah, OK north on Hwy. 10 to work at Flint Ridge Development Co. near Kansas, OK. I turned up the radio and sang along. I let the wind blow through open windows on a perfect spring day. A few clouds floated overhead, but signs of the season were everywhere. Almost no other traffic followed the winding road and I sped along in my own world. On arrival, I parked, hopped out and fairly danced into the office. Face up to the sun, slowly spinning, my arms spread wide, I embraced the day. I could hardly contain myself. Anyone watching would think me crazy; the goofy smile on my face a clue they might be right.

Another example: 1993. Driving home from Springfield, MO to Mountain Home, AR south through Branson to Harrison, then east to the house. I had the T-tops off the black 1979 Pontiac TA. I was alone, the radio tuned to my favorite station and blasting loud enough to hear over the engine rumble and roaring wind. Strangers waved. Happy to be alive, I smiled and waved back. Warm summer sun bathed the interior in its golden glow. I didn't care if I ever got home.

It's a glorious feeling to hug the curves then race down the straight stretches. The power transmits from the motor through the steering wheel, up my arms and into my very core.

These days, speed is not so speedy and curves are taken slower, but the feel of the wheel as I tighten my grip and push the pedal to accelerate still gives me that same deep in my soul joy.