Tag: driving

Posted in Life, neighbor, neighborhood

Driving through the ditch

Posted on by William Douthwaite

It was still dark as the Great Dane and I made our usual dawn circuit of the neighborhood. But it was that time of day when cars were starting up as people left for work.

Two sedans, one SUV, and a pickup truck filled one driveway. Brake lights came on as someone started up one of the cars parked in by the other three. We wondered, “What’s he going to do?” I figured another driver would soon come out to either leave first or maneuver a car so the other car could get out.

But no one came out. I watched as the driver kept moving up and back until he could sneak the nose of the car onto his front lawn. This time I wondered out loud, “Where’s he going to go?”

Somehow he snuck the car in between a large tree and the front sidewalk, driving into the front yard. I cringed. It’s been raining a lot, drainage swales are full, and the ground is soft. “There’s no way…”

There was a way. The driver swung around the tree and headed right towards what looked like a fairly deep ditch. I chuckled, “He’s going to get stuck.”

He didn’t. The nose of the car dipped into the stagnant water and up the other side, followed by the rear wheels. I’ll admit, I would have laughed out loud if he ended up straddling the swale. But he didn’t. Somehow he got up and out and zoomed down the road.

“It’s got to be a rental,” I said. I can’t imagine a homeowner driving across their own front lawn. Although, I’ve seen it before on my own street as impatient drivers spun deep tracks across the yard.

Posted in dogs, running, walking

Don’t worry about me. Just go.

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Alex Radelich on Unsplash

She stopped right in the middle of the road.

I shouted, “What are you doing?” I actually shouted that to the Great Dane who was, for once, obediently sitting next to me. We were just waiting for the traffic to pass so we could cross the street and continue our walk.

But this lady decided to stop. Right in the middle of the road. Right in the middle of a busy street.

Okay, let me explain. I’m a city boy. I grew up in suburban Philadelphia. You don’t walk out in front of traffic. Not if you don’t want to die. But here in Florida, people do it all the time. I know, pedestrians have the right of way. But that’s assuming pedestrians have looked both ways to see if any cars are coming.

The rules are different in Florida. I blame Walmart. In front of their store, cars have to stop for people walking through the striped areas of the parking lot. I watch many walk out without a glance for oncoming cars. I’m not so brave. I wait. I let them go. I don’t trust them. (I don’t trust anyone.) I’m not going to walk in front of any car, assuming it will stop for me.

So we are out for our morning walk. The Great Dane and I have crossed to the middle island of the four lane parkway that runs north and south through our city. She is doing well today. She sits next to me as we wait for the traffic to pass. I am ready to say, “Heel,” as the last car in a pack goes by. But the car slows and comes to a stop. Really? Just like that, when other cars are zipping by?

I’m not falling for that. We’re staying put. I simply look away, as if I don’t notice them at all. I’ll wait. I’ve got all day. Finally, they drive off, and we can cross the road.

I’ve had this problem running, too. I am pacing myself, waiting for a car to pass, and they slow down or stop. They think they are doing me a favor. I chuckle, and run around behind them. Just drive your car. Don’t worry about me. Just go.

I’ve run and biked enough miles that I know how to avoid people who aren’t paying attention, couldn’t care less, and probably shouldn’;t be driving anyway. You live longer when you’ve got some situational awareness and don’t trust anyone.

Posted in driving

Keep your distance

Posted on by William Douthwaite

If you look carefully, you’ll see that the light is red. There are two cars stopped ahead of me. And then there is this car just to my right, twenty-five feet from the intersection. As we wait, she doesn’t inch forward until the light turns to green. “Uh-oh,” I think to myself. I’ll bet she’s going to try to merge in my lane when we start moving.

But she doesn’t. I leave room, but she makes no move. I watch carefully, but she keeps going straight, even after I turn left at another light about a thousand feet ahead.

So, as I often do, I wonder, “What is going on here?”

  • Maybe she’s a super cautious driver. She wants to keep a safe distance from the intersection in case someone is crossing the street. Don’t you hate it when you have to walk around a car sticking it’s nose into the crosswalk?
  • She doesn’t want to tailgate. We all hate tailgaters, don’t we? Oh, wait, there’s no one ahead of her.
  • The obvious: she’s on the phone. Maybe she’s been on the phone, and still doesn’t notice that the people ahead of her drove away when the light turned green. Oblivious, she’s waiting through another cycle.
  • Did her car stall out? She could have been calling AAA at that moment. Cars break down in the worst possible situations, right?
  • Maybe she knows the people in the SUV ahead of me and was talking to them. The light is red, so she can’t go anywhere anyway.
  • She could be hallucinating. Maybe she sees two cars in front of her that no one else can see. Hmm.
  • Invisible cars ahead of her? The car’s automatic braking sensors knows there there. Stopped that car on a dime.
  • I’ve eaten in the car before. I remember driving a stick shift on the Garden State Parkway in New Jersey, tossing a token for the toll, and eating a cup of blueberry yogurt on my way to a class a Rutgers. Maybe she doesn’t multitask well, and a snack distracted her.
  • Was she lost? Was she trying to get Google Maps to give her directions?
  • One more. It’s an malfunctioning autonomous car. There ‘s a bug in the software, so there she sits.

I never know what I’m going to see on the road.

Posted in noticing, Travel

I should have been paying attention

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“Why am I taking this exit?”

It was too late to change my mind. I was already on the interstate exit ramp. But it was the wrong exit. I wasn’t going to a grandson’s baseball or soccer game. I was on the way to church, two more exits down the road.

It wasn’t a huge deal. I had plenty of time. And my alternate route only took five extra minutes. But why did my autopilot malfunction? I’ve been to these two places so many times I don’t even think about it. I just go. Maybe it was because we had just been to two games in the past week. Maybe I got distracted by conversation with my wife and the two boys in the van with us. Who knows?

I’m usually paying attention to where I’m going. I’m aware of my surroundings and what’s going around me. I hear the weather on the radio, catch the silly chattering of grandkids in the back, and pay attention to every little noise the van makes. I don’t know if I’ve ever gotten so absorbed in work or a project that I lost track of time.

My detour reminded me of a story from some friends in Iowa. They were on their way to some city west of Des Moines on I-80. They chatted about all kinds of things, making the drive seem short. Then they noticed a sign “Omaha – 10 miles.” I know, it doesn’t seem possible, but they drove about one hundred miles too far that day. That’s losing track of time!

How many things do I do each day without thinking about them? I can brush my teeth, tie my shoes, and sign my name without a thought. I can ride a bike, catch a ball, play guitar chords, and eat a donut without engaging my mind. It’s fascinating that my body just knows what to do.

So I remind myself to pay attention. I don’t to be that guy in the middle of the grocery store aisle, oblivious to other shoppers. Or the person ahead of you at the intersection, unaware that the light has turned green. (Although I confess that I have been that guy.) Or the worshiper who says the Lord’s Prayer or the Apostles Creed while thinking about what you want to eat for lunch. (Been there; done that.)

Posted in Life

I guess we only need one car

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Marius Christensen on Unsplash

It’s been a while since we only had one car. Just about forty years to be exact. My wife and I each brought a car into the marriage and we’ve always had at least two. Until today.

With both of us working and three kids to raise, we drove off in directions more often than not. As a nurse and a pastor, my wife and I spent a lot of time driving to hospitals all over northeast Florida. When our three children attended three different schools, they needed rides to dance classes, band rehearsals, sports practices, and friends’ houses. When they learned to drive, we parked three cars in the driveway.

All of that has changed in retirement. Without daily trips to church, hospitals, nursing homes, and members’ homes, I drive a lot less than I used to. Most of the time, one car sits idly in the driveway. So why do we have two? Good question. Could we get by with just one car?

About half the homes in our neighborhood have more than two cars parked in the driveway. Few can squeeze a car into their junk-filled garage. My neighbor has two Corvettes in the garage, and another two cars in the driveway for him and his wife. Around the corner, another neighbor has four cars parked in a circular driveway, two of which haven’t budged in over two years. I believe single-car households are the exception rather than the rule.

Here is our strategy for owning just one car:

  • Keep and frequently check Google calendar to avoid conflicting appointments.
  • Work towards going to the grocery store once a week, rather than every day. The trick will be better lists and better planning. How often have you had to start a new shopping list as soon as you started putting away the groceries you just brought home from the store?
  • If we put our minds to it, we can bunch our errands together into one outing rather than several.
  • When I need something at the store or I want to go to the library, I can always ride my bike. Many of the places I drive are just a couple of miles away. In a pinch, there’s always Uber or Lyft. Or a neighbor.

Cutting car expenses in half is a welcome improvement in our budget. Gas, insurance, maintenance, and payments can consume large portions of our income. Or not, if we don’t have as many vehicles.

So we’ve got one car parked in the driveway. We’re going to give it a shot.

Posted in Life

Nine reasons I’m looking forward to autonomous cars

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Roberto Nickson on Unsplash

As I was driving around today, I thought of a number of reasons why I will enjoy autonomous cars on the road in the near future.

  • These cars will use signals for all right and left turns and lane changes. I know I’m not the only one dismayed by the rare use of the turn signal.
  • Self-driving cars will not roll through stop signs nor will they run red lights. I pause when the light turns green. Too many cars have sped across my path in defiance of a red light.
  • No autonomous cars will be riding my butt on the highway. They will maintain a safe and reasonable distance behind me. That will be refreshing.
  • That’s because they will be driving the speed limit. They will not be pushing the envelope to see how fast they can go.
  • Self-driving cars will not cut me off in town or on the highway. They will not weave in and out through traffic.
  • They will park amazingly well. Straight and between the lines. What, no dings on the door? And not on my front lawn.
  • They will go when the light turns green. Self-driving cars will not be distracted by phones or kids, but will pay attention to the traffic signals.
  • No autonomous car will be driving fifteen miles per hour below the highway speed limit either.
  • And they will all know where they are going. They won’t ignore wrong way signs and turn into incoming traffic. They won’t crawl through town looking for a street. GPS will guide them right where they need to go.

We’ll be in self-driving cars sooner than we think. Is that a good thing? We’ll soon find out.

Posted in Moments of grace

An early morning drive: alone or not?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Alejo Reinoso on Unsplash

I looked up ahead and saw…no one. I looked in my rear view mirror and saw…no one.

No cars. No trucks. Nothing. Just darkness.

I was out here on the highway…alone.

My flight was delayed. I landed at 1:30 in the morning. Caught my shuttle to long term parking. Got on the toll road, then the interstate. Forty miles to go. It’s nice at night. No trucks on my tail. No lights in my mirrors blinding me. No slow drivers to pass. No cars weaving through car-filled lanes. Just me.

It’s surreal. I’m not prepared for this. There’s always red tail lights to follow. There’s always the glare of oncoming headlights. There’s always someone merging onto the highway. There’s always Amazon trucks, car carriers, fuel trucks, and trailers laden with boats.

Not tonight. Tonight it’s just me.

This moment is peaceful. Almost hypnotic. A dream? No, I’m awake. I slept on the plane.

But what if. What if there are no other drivers? What if I’m not just alone on the road, but alone in the world? What if I get home, and there’s no one there?

A lot of weird things go through my head at 3 in the morning. Alone in a car, alone on a road, alone in…the world?

I can go as fast as I want. Or slow. I can stop right here if I want. I can turn around and drive in the other direction. I can swerve from lane to lane. No one to see, no one imposing limits, no one saying, “Stop!” no blue and red lights in my rear view mirror.

My speed is seventy-ish. I’m in the center lane. In an instant, I see lights behind me and lights ahead of me. My exit approaches.

I am not alone. Many others are out here driving. Driving like no one else is on the road. Eighty-five. Lane to lane. Disappearing from sight around the curve.

And I am alone once again.

I really hope someone is home, waiting for me.

Posted in faith, Life, prayer

Have a little faith

Posted on by William Douthwaite

A few things went through my mind when I pulled up to this car.

First, it’s a Saturn. Saturn stopped making cars in 2010. So I’ll bet this car was about fifteen years old. I think it takes faith to keep taking it out on the road. Although, on the plus side, if the student is still a beginner, a few dents and dings won’t bother anyone.

Second, there is probably a student driver at the wheel. It definitely takes faith to ride alongside first-time drivers day after day. If you don’t have gray hair yet, you will very soon.

Finally, I flashed back to my own driver’s ed experience in high school. I turned sixteen in 1973 and took the class that fall. All I remember from the class was a slide show with gruesome pictures of cars wrapped around telephone poles and the mangled bodies inside of them. The main message: wear your seat belt.

But to complete the class and get a discount on insurance, you had to drive with an instructor in a car equipped with a brake on the passenger side. If things got hairy, the teacher could hit the brake and avoid whatever was in front of the car.

I didn’t get to be in the car until the following summer. By then, I had driven the family car and thought I knew what I was doing. I think I went out three times with an instructor. At the end of the last session, I was winding through some suburban Philadelphia neighborhoods when the teacher slammed on the brake from his side and brought the car to a stop.

I asked, “What did I do wrong?”

He replied, “Oh, nothing. My mom lives here and I just wanted to stop in and say hello.” Thanks for the heads up. By the time he came back out, my heart had stopped pounding and we drove back to the school.

A few weeks later, I asked my mom if I could take my license test. She wasn’t optimistic but took me to the state police station where you took your test on a closed course with a smokey bear hat-wearing state trooper. Intimidating? Absolutely. I thought I blew it when I had to back up our big Ford Falcon station wagon a second time to complete the three point turn. Much to my mom’s surprise, I passed and got my license that day.

Thirty years later taught my own children to drive. Yes, it takes a lot of faith. On the plus side, you also learn a lot about prayer!

Posted in Life

Three and counting

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“So, are you down to one vehicle now?”

“Three.”

Okay, that caught me completely off guard. My wife and I had been talking about when we might downsize from two cars in the driveway to one. How often did we go two different places at the same time? Not as often as we did when we were both working. Wouldn’t it be sweet to only have to fuel up, insure, and maintain a single car?

He had retired a few years before and his wife was newly retired. Now they traveled together to visit family, run errands, and meet friends (like us) for lunch. They told inspiring stories of how they frugally learned to live simply yet richly in this new chapter of their life.

The fall colors were peaking on a warmish fall day as we walked around a lake. I should have remembered I was venturing onto dangerously thin ice when I assumed, “You must be down to one vehicle.”

“Three. And I think I’m going to buy a tractor.”

We’ve owned three cars in the past. We live in a town with no public transportation, so we had no choice but to drive everywhere. My wife and I would both head out in our cars for work, after saying, “Goodbye” to our children as one of them drove off to high school.

Three cars? One was a small pickup truck he had owned for nearly twenty years. That wasn’t going anywhere. Another smaller sedan was fine for running around town, but certainly wasn’t reliable enough for longer trips. So they needed a newer car as well.

A tractor? They lived on an acreage in western North Carolina. They had to maintain their own half-mile gravel driveway. They were also tearing down some old dog kennels, moving firewood closer to the house as winter approached, and dragging a gazebo to a different spot in the yard. Besides, he might have to dig a hole one day. Of course he needed a tractor.

My next-door neighbor and his wife have two Corvettes in their garage and two smaller cars parked in the driveway. Another neighbor has two vans and an SUV for the two of them. Two houses up from us, four SUVs are parked in the driveway.

I’m pretty sure my family only owned one car for years. My dad traveled to work in Philadelphia on the train, so we only needed one station wagon to haul everyone around. When my dad got a new job, he bought a second car for his commute. It was a yellow Ford Maverick with distinctive rusty trim. Once we three kids were grown and gone, they downsized to one Ford (my dad was a Ford fan) Tempo station wagon. They drove so few miles they changed the oil based on the calendar rather than the odometer.

One day we’ll decide one car or SUV or truck is enough. We’ll just have to decide what to own. Maybe we need something big enough to cart a lot of grandkids around in. Or maybe a sporty-two seater to zip around in. An electric vehicle? Something autonomous? We’ll see.