When I moved back to America from Finland in October of last year, one of the first things Idid, by necessity, was drive. My buddy Tom and I drove cross country from Arizona to Tennessee, and I continued on alone to my new home in southwest Virginia.
I had hardly driven in the last few years because I didn’t have a car overseas. I went whole hog right away with this cross country trip.
I didn’t mind because I like to drive. Driving scored very high in the skills area of one of the career tests I have taken in the past.
Once I got to Virginia, I didn’t stop driving. While my family was still in Finland, I drove all over the state and into adjacent ones. I went to see my mother in Baltimore. I toured the Skyline Drive in the Shenandoah Valley. I drove to North and South Carolina. Unfortunately, I broke my right ankle in the last state and ended up in the hospital for two days.
I wasn’t driving when I broke my foot. I should have been. The restaurant I decided to go to was across the interstate from my motel, but I had decided to walk across the bridge to it since it was close by. Big mistake! I attempted to walk down a muddy hill… and the rest is history.
After I got out of the hospital, I had no real choice but to drive home. So I used my left foot and drove several hours back to Virginia. I became pretty adept at using the left foot while driving. I didn’t mind, because I like to drive.
The foot didn’t stop me from continuing my driving craze. When my Canadian friend came to visit, I drove him to Charlottesville to see Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson. We continued on to colonial Williamsburg.
Since it was raining there the next morning, I put the pedal to the metal and drove like a madman to Asheville, North Carolina. My friend wanted to see Biltmore Estate. This had been my original destination when I broke my foot, so I was all too happy to indulge him. Plus, I of course, I didn’t mind. I like to drive.
When my family came to Virginia in December, it wasn’t long before we made a road trip. We went to Maryland to see my niece and her family, and my mother. She hadn’t seen her grandkids in years because we had been overseas. It was a quick jaunt and back of less than 48 hours. Of course, I didn’t mind because I like to drive.
Sometimes this driving addiction can get to other people that are with me, though. Once I drove my wife and her brother down to the Smoky Mountains. After we finished, I suggested we go on to Chattanooga since I had fond memories of that town. One look at the map, and my brother-in-law dissuaded me from driving such a long distance. Of course, I wouldn’t have minded because I like to drive.
These days I don’t drive too much, except to work. I have been working a crazy overtime schedule. With gas prices continuing to be out of this world, I don’t foresee driving much in the near future. Our dollars have to go for more important necessities. This I mind, because I like to drive.
My philosophy was popularized by the words of a song made popular by “Steppenwolf”:
“Get your motor runnin’
Head out on the highway
Lookin’ for adventure
And whatever comes our way…”