The Drive

You have to be alone for The Drive. The emotions it stirs won’t happen with passengers. You’re present with them and that’s a good thing. The Drive will happen on this same route without them. Passengers previously contributed to its meaning. But not always.

Today, right now, it’s just you, and despite how many times you’ve done The Drive it takes you by surprise today. And then the feelings are familiar. You get why it’s hitting you again.

The curves, spots of acceleration, spots you pass, spots that matter. They are all familiar. Always. They make the drive. Mark the drive. Never change. What does are the emotions and memories and perspective you feel sometimes on that drive. Not every time. But I suggest they are uniquely there – and when you’re alone.

Some drives are drives because of the shared experiences on it – family, friends. Drives to destinations. Drives home.

Some drives are drives only you have made. And today, following or facing something, it hits you, again. Damn, this drive has been a significant part of my life. Or at least my life since that. Or this.

The music is always perfect on The Drive. Songs you’ve heard a million times. Songs you’ve heard so often, but not this way, on this drive, today. Suddenly fit so well. Make more sense than ever. Make you roll all the windows down.

I’ve been winding along the woodsy back roads from North Falmouth to Pocasset for 35 summers. Either returning from one of our nearby haunts or happily escaping the last few exits of 28 North on a return from Falmouth Heights or further. I was a guest when I was first introduced to these lefts and rights, the glimpses of water, classic Capes.

I felt lucky immediately. She came with a family cottage, and I was welcomed into it and a world quite close to what I already knew, but so far in so many ways. The journey from guest to host evolved slowly over these many years. Not a straight line and not at a consistent speed. But this drive has always made me smile inside. I’ve always felt very conscious of where I was on that journey during it.

Today I own that drive. No invitation necessary. Inviting others to join. Full appreciation of this has only arrived quite recently and it has me reflecting on other drives.

They’re not all taken on sunny days. But the view can be quite clear. They return us to or from somewhere that is marked by much more than an address. Take stock on a solo trip sometime.