Drive While You Still Can
The temperature nudged into the 90s that afternoon, but I had the windows down because I wanted to feel, and smell, the outside air after 30 days in three hospitals. (Of course I also had the air conditioning on: I did not descend from pioneer people.)
Before that I had the memory of a nighttime ambulance ride to the emergency room as my most recent road trip, helmed by a plump pair of excessively jolly paramedics, one driving, one just looking out the window. I suspect they were pleased to have a Friday night passenger who wasn’t actively bleeding or spitting up. The driver swerved to avoid a dog, or so he said: I was strapped down, studying the beige ambulance ceiling, so I couldn’t see any stray dog, but I suspect he was checking messages on his cell phone. (The driver, not the dog. Or maybe both.)
Only twice since I got my learner’s permit at age 15 had I spent any extended time not driving—both were the result of hospital stays. The first was eight days, caused by a rodeo bull who was not satisfied to just buck me off after two seconds, but kicked me behind my right knee, hard. The second was 13 days, due to a bleeding ulcer, the origins of which were never determined, which also briefly shut down my liver. It went away as quickly and mysteriously as it came.
Thirty days, though—plus a few sick days at home before that ambulance ride—and I figure it was a solid 34 days of no driving, a long time for someone who does it for a living, for entertainment, for relaxation. I think I was 17 when my father, for whom climbing in his car was viewed as a task, said, “I thought you would get all this driving out of your system by now.” I did not. Have not. Probably won’t.
My first drive back was in a lovely emerald Isle of Man Green 2024 BMW X6 M60i, price almost $112,000. I almost felt overserved: It did not have to be in such an overqualified vehicle—a Yugo would have done. OK, not a Yugo, but maybe a Hyundai Accent. Anything that moves under its own power but isn’t a Yugo.
And the BMW moved, with 523 horsepower from the 4.4-liter, twin-turbo V-8, and a 0-60 mph time of 3.7 seconds, per BMW. I got 3.8 seconds after I got comfortable in the big SUV. It will go 177 mph, but I didn’t get nearly that comfortable.
It lacked nothing. I drove everywhere, and nowhere. Maybe 150 miles. The last 50, I was driving on regained instinct. It took longer than I thought.
I—we—need to drive every day we can. It is a privilege granted not by the state, but by He or She who grants all privileges, and it can be taken away so quickly. Mine almost was.
The last word goes to late journalist Brock Yates, my mentor, friend, and eventually employee at Car and Driver. Several of us were in my office, grousing about flights to press events.
“Will I get upgraded to first?”
“Will I get miles?”
“Don’t they have a later flight?”
“They don’t serve my brand of beer.”
What do you think, Brock?
“I think we work for Car and Driver, and you ought to consider driving,” he said.
Later that day he piled into a long-term press car—it may have been the five-speed manual, un-airconditioned Jeep Wrangler four-cylinder—for a 350-mile drive from Ann Arbor, Michigan, home to Wyoming, New York.
Consider driving. Such good advice.
Anything within a 12 hour range… I skip the airport
I used to subscribe to the 12-hour rule. Age, night vision decline, and way too many Monster trucks and SUV s with a bazillion-lumen lighting have reduced it to 6 hours for me.
Steven glad to know that the outstanding journasoures at Hagerty are just worried about: flight upgrades, if the correct brand of beer is served, can I keep my miles, exc… gee we did not realize that everyone at Hagerty had turned into clones of Johnny Looserman. Hopefully your colleagues have also not adapted Johnny’s inability to drive in a straight line. 🙃🙃🙃
Did we read the same article? I don’t think you read the same thing I did. Those comments were about Cole’s days at Car and Driver…
Thanks, Randy
Land speed record for over-reaction.
By any chance did you see how quickly that pocket rocket could make it around the 635? You could start on the upper west side near Ross Perot son’s jet port and most likely make it around the west and south side pretty quickly the only issue would be the east side construction and thought N Dallas. If you have not you should try. 😉😉
Great advice = drive while you still can. And it is applicable to nearly everything else in this life that we’ve been granted the privileges to enjoy. Like Steven, I’m sure most of us can related a story (or twelve) of how quickly and easily we could have (nearly did?) lose our ability to pursue the simple happiness that is driving (except maybe on Sajeev’s Houston Freeway 😉). Sometimes for relatively short periods – but also maybe forever.
This coming Friday night, along with some other rodders, I’m taking some teens from a neighboring town’s high school on a parade route to get them to their Homecoming game. What opportunity to drive are YOU taking, my friends? 😜
I enjoy driving and long trips. Going on a long one in Colorado because we can and it is more enjoyable than being stuck in a tin can for a few hours after getting probed at the airport.
Here I thought this was going to be about not using ADAS features. It went in the direction I experience after a very difficult and almost deadly 2019. So true! I was spoiled driving all manor of SRTs for work until I was off on medical leave. Made me appreciate my personal beaters and the freedom of being able to drive at all. Suffering is good for the soul.
Yes, do it while we still can. I will be gone soon for us all…time will see to that.
Oh, and I’d even settle for driving the Yugo.
I’ve used every form of transport available to the public. None come close to driving. Even if it’s cross-country. I’d say trains are second-best for those distances, though by a significant margin. One simply can’t experience Creation – or Life – without immersion.
Sound Advice, I thrill most don’t appreciate until it’s not possible. I gotta go, Some rubber to burn and gas to buy. Yee Hah, lucky me
There still is that inconvenient truth that flying remains safer than driving.
so is hiding under the bed…..
Good point, point taken. Lucky you to have worked with Yates. Read C&D cover to cover growing up. He was the cantankerous best. I still laugh about the post-Cannonball articles. Guys dressed as priests in a Mercedes doing 120–team Flying Fathers. OR, the cops who understood the project and let them speed on.
I was in the Army and would spend weeks and sometimes months not driving a car, maybe driving something with tracks, or driving a HMMWV at 25 mph down the middle of a dirt road while trying to read a map and talk on the radio at the same time…always a strange feeling to finally get back behind the wheel of a car and have to drive in/pay attention to, traffic. I never asked anyone but I assume that being in the Navy was even worse that way, being on a ship for months and not driving anything…need to remember to ask my brother!
I was in Vietnam in 1969 and 1970 – missed girls, cold beer, the moon landing and Woodstock, but the thing I REALLY missed was cruising in my hot rod. Fifteen months out of the U.S. and not a Chevy in sight. But boy, did I make up for it when I got back to the home streets!
I feel the same! Go out on the open road, roll down the windows and feel the rush of the wind on your face. My dog sitting in the back seat can certainly appreciate that!
In 1996 I took my 87 Mustang GT for a 5,500 mile trip from Iowa to Florida, over to Louisiana and on west into Texas and eventually to Colorado before heading back to Iowa. Why did I do it besides having two weeks off to get away from that thing called work? Mainly, to visit friends and family along with seeing different parts of the country, but also the joy of driving for me. I loved the challenge of having a goal and seeing if I could put in my 5-600 miles of driving to make it to my next destination along with eating at some greasy spoon or gawking at a roadside attraction. Oh, and occasionally letting it all out and seeing how fast my GT could go with the t-tops out. Glorious feeling I will miss when the time comes to hang up the keys.
My father was in his late 80’s when I had to pull the keys from him even if he wasn’t ready, but his erratic driving and faltering memory were making a potential risk on the road. I really believe in the bottom of my heart that was the start of a more accelerated decline in his will to live since driving represented freedom and independence that was being taken away from him. A hard decision to make on my part, but a necessary one nonetheless.
I met Brock and visited his bar every Watkins Glen weekend. A great man and auto crazy. Read Sunday Driver if you haven’t, or any of his other works for that matter.
Flying? To the British Grand Prix and a Cuban wedding. Two round trips in 75 years, the most frightening times of my life.
Dad and I demolished a 40 once bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label going to Britain and I sat with my newly acquired Griffin helmet on the way back.
The Cuban affair, I was prepared. Binged watched ever Mayday episode available for six months. When I was boarding I asked if the tanks were full and told the flight attendant to let the captain know I was on board and ready to take over. That was coming and going. Never removed my seat belt on any flight and kissed the ground upon landing every time.
The Bathurst 1000 is on my bucket list, getting there would require a medically induced coma. I’m told that trip takes a day, maybe I’ll settle for watching it. With Toyota joining in 2026, maybe by boat.
Maybe you watched “Airplane” too much.
And keeping your seat belt securely fastened at all times is a good practice.
I was a flight crew member for a major airline for 35 years. I drive everywhere within this continent no matter the time it takes.