It's Just a Car

A mini-van pulls into the turnout along the Avenue of the Giants, and we hear an adolescent male voice:

Whoa, take a picture of that!

That was not the towering behemoth of a tree, of which there were many awe-inspiring specimens in sight. That was a rather uncommon automobile.

With no biking plans for the weekend, how could I pass up another opportunity for a road trip on four wheels? Destination north, away from the baking Bay Area.

At first sight of the shiny black car last Friday, one of my friends asked:

Can I take out a life insurance policy on you?

But as the car's owner is prone to remark,

It's just a car.

Well, yes. And no.

It's not the average car that induces a guy in a pick-up truck to pull a screeching u-turn and jump out (in his socks) for a close look after spotting it in his rear view mirror. We were admiring the trees.

And I can't say that I have ever had another driver pull alongside and roll down the window so his passenger could lean across and snap a photo. The flash went off; I wonder how that turned out? I smiled and waved.

A car is meant to be driven, and this car is rarely meant to be driven on the shortest path between two points. A navigation system turns out to be unexpectedly useful for spotting the most exquisitely twisted route in the vicinity.

Sitting in the passenger seat does not feel like I'm just along for the ride. It has been a surprisingly intimate experience. Is it because I'm so low to the ground, and the road is in my face? Is it the way it handles, or because I anticipate how the driver will take every curve?

Being a passenger feels almost like driving the car.

Did I drive the car?

Well, what do you think?