A few weeks ago while I was making my most recent 18-hour plus return drive home from Florida, it occurred to me that some might think my behavior odd. Why would anyone choose to torture him or herself by spending so many solo hours in a row battling the risks and challenges of a modern freeway? Especially a person with a predilection for leisure (read lazy) and considerable control over his time (read emphatically retired).
In my mind the answer is simple and obvious. Solo marathon drives are fun. Or at least they can be if you do it right. But I realize that this opinion may not be widely held. In my IRS Quality Officer days, I often used a technique called "force field analysis" to think through and understand an issue. Let's see if I can use this tool to bring you around to my way of thinking.
The process starts by defining a desired state. Then you identify forces supporting the desired state and those opposing it. Finally you look for ways to strengthen supporting forces and overcome opposing forces, increasing the likelihood of achieving your desired state.
Okay. If you are still reading this post, thanks. I know analysis can hurt and is often just not that interesting. This episode won't be much different. So I'm not offended if you've already returned to surfing Facebook or playing Candy Crush or have re-immersed yourself in an advanced color Sudoku puzzle. I understand completely. But for the hopelessly curious, I'll continue.
First, let's define our desired state. For this exercise I've chosen "Driving alone on a limited access expressway for 18 hours in a row is fun". The wording here is important. Note that I'm making no attempt to make a case for extended driving where crazies can come at you from any direction or a situation in which you have to manage personality quirks other than your own. I'm talkin' flying solo with minimal external hazards. Think Jimmy Stewart as Charles Lindbergh in The Spirit of St. Louis, but with less water.
To further clarify, I'm talking about driving from the lower red circle in the map shot below, up the pink path all the way to the upper red circle.
While for the most part staring out the window at this.
Now that we have defined our desired state, let's identify some supporting forces. As I have spent much time exploring this issue (mostly behind the wheel at warp speed), I could generate a long list. But to not press your patience (I know, too late), I will limit the number of forces to four:
S-1. You get to spend a long time in a sitting position.
S-2. You can listen to the music, radio talk show or audio book of your choice for hours at a time.
S-3. You can avoid the cost and discomfort of a night in a budget hotel.
S-4. You can avoid the hassle of airports (like erroneously self-tagging your luggage to Greenland, or tap-dancing with TSA over the unusual personal items in your carry-on bag, or squeezing your svelte self into a modern-day aircraft microseat, for starters).
Okay, these supporting forces may be a little lame. Except for the last one. But before we get into it, lets identify an equal number of opposing forces:
O-1. A long ride can be boring.
O-2. A long ride can be tiring.
O-3. A long ride takes a long time, burning up hours you could spend on more fruitful tasks.
O-4. Your vehicle seat might not be that comfortable, leading to back pain, leg cramps, even phlebitis (yikes).
Yeah, these might be a little lame, too. But what can I say. These are the weighty issues that drive my retirement existence. So let's press on.
Part one of the next step is to examine and try to enhance the supporting forces. Easy-peasy.
S-1. You get to spend a long time in a sitting position. What's to enhance? Sitting's where it's at. You are much safer than in other positions. No stumbling over abandoned dog bones or stubbing toes on concealed sofa legs. No sudden lightheadedness from reaching down to clean up dog droppings during those "healthy" fresh air walks. And very little chance of the muscle strain so common to household activities like unloading the dishwasher or pushing a vacuum cleaner around. As Ross Perot would say, "case closed."
S-2. You can listen to the music, radio talk show or audio book of your choice for hours at a time. Also, very hard to make better. In previous times, this took a little planning. Browsing one's music library, selecting and packing favorite CDs. Maybe a trip to the library to check out an audio book on some exciting topic (like the history of the Fertile Crescent). Carefully placing these materials in your vehicle within arms reach for easy grabbing and loading while in flight. For example, here's a shot of my magic box for the current trip.
S-2. You can listen to the music, radio talk show or audio book of your choice for hours at a time. Also, very hard to make better. In previous times, this took a little planning. Browsing one's music library, selecting and packing favorite CDs. Maybe a trip to the library to check out an audio book on some exciting topic (like the history of the Fertile Crescent). Carefully placing these materials in your vehicle within arms reach for easy grabbing and loading while in flight. For example, here's a shot of my magic box for the current trip.
You'll note that I have two audio books - one fiction, one non-fiction (to accommodate varying levels of attention), a few CDs from my oft-mentioned Music Night group (for when attention totally dissolves and you slip into that unconscious "what state am I in" zone), my camera (just in case I see something new), and a bag of snack bars (to avoid unnecessary stops in the mountains - think Deliverance).
But I do admit there is less need to plan these days. Now you just slap your smart phone (which contains all of this material and streaming connectivity to boot) into its cradle mount and fire up the Bluetooth link. Here's a shot of my modest concession to travel electronics (from bottom to top my iPod, smart phone, blue-tooth driven dash display and hard wire to the out-of-frame GPS). What? I do keep my eyes on the road. Mostly.
You'll also note in this shot the obligatory bottomless cup of coffee backed up by a heavily-caffeinated soft drink. Those go without saying.
S-3. You can avoid the cost and discomfort of a night in a budget hotel. You could also accomplish this by flying, but then you would run smack dab into the next supporting force.
S-4. You can avoid the hassle of airports. As you may have gleaned from my parenthetical above, I strongly dislike flying and will go to great lengths to avoid it. So this is a powerful supporting force for me. I didn't always feel this way. I traveled by air tons in my work life and enjoyed it very much. But with the airline industry's shift away from customer comfort (just how little leg room can we get away with), the burdens of heightened security (take it off, buddy), and what I feel has been a decline in traveler prowess (carry-ons the size of a Mini Cooper), who needs it.
Whew. After writing all this down, I'm getting the feeling these supporting forces aren't so lame after all. But let's finish the exercise. What about those troublesome opposing forces?
O-1. A long ride can be boring. Sounds like a personal problem. Especially for extraverts (in Jungian parlance). They prefer company. For introverts like myself, being alone is a gift. An opportunity to explore one's inner world and commune with favorite music, memories, authors and (dare I say it) political extremists.
Yes, if truth be told, I'm actually an introvert. For you Myers-Briggs enthusiasts, my MBTI type is INTJ. That means that while I do place a high value on spending time with people, my brain is hard-wired to recharge in private - likely why I enjoy writing this blog so much. But back to our problem people, the extraverts.
My suggestion for the extraverts is to practice "aloneness". This could be long walks by yourself in deserted places (daytime of course), playing golf onesomes, sitting on an abandoned beach staring at the horizon for as long as possible (my personal favorite), or extended smart phone sessions listening to favorite music but not swiping past your home screen. No Facebooking, texting, tweeting or messaging of any kind. Just earphones and icons.
Of course there are other ways to practice being alone. The main thing is to spend a little time getting used to the absence of others before you attempt a marathon drive. Otherwise you're going to drive the fast food servers and gas station convenience store clerks nuts, trying to get a human contact fix.
O-2. A long ride can be tiring. This is especially true if you are a nervous, aggressive or just plain reluctant driver. In other words, for you to have a fighting chance of enjoying an extended drive you have to have a relaxed driving style (you become one with the road) and not have the road rage gene (you're good at sharing).
But the most important thing is that you actually like being behind the wheel. You believe that every ride is an opportunity for new and exhilarating experiences. Even old, familiar routes offer opportunities to see what's changed or maybe what you missed the last time. You think of the drive like you were whooshed into a video game (a la Tron) where the steering wheel is your joystick and the programmers have buried fascinating Easter eggs where only advanced players can find them. In other words for you, sitting back in your virtual flying machine and pushing the thrusters to full impulse is a rush. Okay. Back to Earth.
Here's the deal. If you don't think you have these prerequisites, cut yourself some slack and get an airline miles card. If you think you do, I have a couple of suggestions for addressing the fatigue issue. One, don't drive through the night. The magic length of 18 hours is key, and not just because it's the minimum amount of time to get from Tampa to Detroit. It's also the longest amount of same-day time you can generate by leaving at a time not too crazy to get up - 5:00 am - and arriving before circadian influences overpower you into sleep - 12:00 midnight (yes, that's really 19 hours; I need the extra hour in the morning to dress, eat and sufficiently suppress those same circadian forces that prefer that I sleep in until 9:00 am. It's a personal problem).
Tip two is to get a good night's sleep before the 5:00 am get up. This may seem obvious, but going to bed at 9:00 or 10:00 pm the night before - to get at least seven or eight hours of sleep - can be tricky. If you're typically an early crasher, no problem. This is probably your normal bed time. But if you're a night owl, you need a plan. My best suggestion is to get into bed with a TV (or tablet capable of streaming) and tune in to the On Demand option of one of the oldie stations, like MeTV. A few minutes into a rerun of Matlock or Diagnosis Murder and you'll be out like a light. Or if you're a reader, crack any volume of Churchill's six part history of World War II. Go directly to the appendices (Churchill's personal memos and other papers). Your brain will shut down in the first paragraph.
O-3. A long ride can take a long time, burning up hours you could spend on more fruitful tasks. This one's easy. Well easy for me. As a rule, I avoid fruitful tasks. So a long solo drive keeps me out of range of any that might try to sneak up on me. At least until I get home.
For you reliable pillar-of-the-community types, think of it this way. Everybody needs downtime. You may be more useful and productive after an extended and definitely non-productive drive during which your poor, overtaxed sense of responsibility has a chance to recharge. Also, your constituency may appreciate you more having experienced a little deprivation. If you think I'm just blowing smoke here, you have my respect. And my sympathies. You've got it bad.
O-4. Your vehicle seat might not be that comfortable, leading to back pain, leg cramps, even phlebitis. To last 18 hours in the same seat is a challenge no matter where it is. Fortunately, auto (and in my case truck) seats are somewhat adjustable. So the first thing to try is fiddling with the seat positions - seat up/down and/or forward/backward, backrest up/down, and for slightly upscale vehicles the lumbar adjustment. If you're still concerned about in-flight comfort, I suggest adding a few urgent care centers or truck stop/massage parlors along your route as GPS via points.
The important thing is to at all times keep at least one hand free to search your snack bag for emergency foodstuffs and/or to adjust your array of electronic devices to just the right stimulus. Nothing numbs your awareness of physical discomfort like a two-pound bag of Chex Mix or singing along at the top of your lungs to a 20-song Petula Clark set. I also recommend traveling in cruise control so you can shift your leg and arm positions frequently without erratic vehicle movement (except for those rare occurrences when you need to search the vehicle floor for a water bottle cap or half-eaten snack bar that has tumbled out of your grasp at 75 miles per hour; I hate when that happens).
Okay. This was my best shot at recruiting you into my little piece of road-trip paradise. If you're buying any of this, I hope you have opportunities to field test my advice in the near future. If you're not, uh....read it again. Maybe after a couple of cocktails. It might make more sense.
Also, in the interest of full (or at least near-full) disclosure, I feel compelled to share a couple more factors that have influenced my views on extended solo driving. The first is that, due to my sister's illness, I have had the use of an extra vehicle the last few years (the oft-mentioned trusty, tried and true Toyota Tacoma). This has enabled me to drive at my own schedule and pace and avoid dreaded commercial transportation (airlines, taxis, rental cars) when required to travel on short notice.
The second factor is that due to home-front commitments my bride has not been able to join me on many of my short-notice, semi-urgent trips to Florida. This means that I was often faced with driving home on my own. And wanting to get back home - my favorite place to be - I was well-motivated to keep on truckin' (sorry) until I got there.
And finally, I can't close without coming clean that the only drive I enjoy more than an extended solo stint is one with my bride at my side. Aside from her pleasant company, Nancy likes to drive and is often behind the wheel more than half of the time on our planned road trips. That allows me to stare out the window and lose myself in the passing countryside even more, and play with my electronic toys without those aforementioned erratic swerves across the median while groping for the next disk of an audio book.
So there it is. I'm outed. Fact is, my solo extended drives have usually occurred because there was no one around to go with me. But I still say those drives can be a ball if you do it right.
I started this post a few weeks ago, after I had completed what I thought might be my last marathon solo drive from my mother's home in Florida to Vernier East (the nickname we gave our Grosse Pointe digs years ago when Nancy's dad lived at Vernier West - a condo down the street). But before I could break away from my summer laze on the shores of Lake Huron and finish the story, I found myself again programming the GPS for Zephyrhills. Mom was facing a new health challenge and needed some help. So ten days ago I speed-packed my essential gear, saddled my trusty Tacoma, and hit the trail.
Given my relatively late departure that day (noonish), I didn't try to make the trip in one session, or coast to coast as it's known in our family. Rather, about midnight I stopped for a few hours of poor sleep (strange bed, hard mattress, weird carpet) in a Hampton just north of Atlanta. A 7:00 am departure the next morning put me at Mom's by mid-afternoon. I found her a little better than expected and very happy to have company. After a few days of TLC, a new drug or two, and a trip to an eye specialist, Mom is now on the mend. So I'm aiming the white Toyota north tomorrow.
It will not be a coast to coast trip, as it looks like my departure window will open up mid-afternoon after a late morning commitment, and I am too anxious to return home to wait another 15 hours to leave. But it will still be 18-19 hours on the road within about a 26 hour period.
And as we will be back to a one car family in October, it looks like my solo marathon drive career will actually be over as I pull into the driveway early Tuesday evening (with one car, Nancy and I both go or I fly). So I'm looking at this drive as sort of my farewell tour. The end of an era. Here's a final shot of me and my own personal "Hidalgo" (that famous long-distance champion horse from the movies).
I may have a tee shirt made.
Grosse Pointe Charles
But the most important thing is that you actually like being behind the wheel. You believe that every ride is an opportunity for new and exhilarating experiences. Even old, familiar routes offer opportunities to see what's changed or maybe what you missed the last time. You think of the drive like you were whooshed into a video game (a la Tron) where the steering wheel is your joystick and the programmers have buried fascinating Easter eggs where only advanced players can find them. In other words for you, sitting back in your virtual flying machine and pushing the thrusters to full impulse is a rush. Okay. Back to Earth.
Here's the deal. If you don't think you have these prerequisites, cut yourself some slack and get an airline miles card. If you think you do, I have a couple of suggestions for addressing the fatigue issue. One, don't drive through the night. The magic length of 18 hours is key, and not just because it's the minimum amount of time to get from Tampa to Detroit. It's also the longest amount of same-day time you can generate by leaving at a time not too crazy to get up - 5:00 am - and arriving before circadian influences overpower you into sleep - 12:00 midnight (yes, that's really 19 hours; I need the extra hour in the morning to dress, eat and sufficiently suppress those same circadian forces that prefer that I sleep in until 9:00 am. It's a personal problem).
Tip two is to get a good night's sleep before the 5:00 am get up. This may seem obvious, but going to bed at 9:00 or 10:00 pm the night before - to get at least seven or eight hours of sleep - can be tricky. If you're typically an early crasher, no problem. This is probably your normal bed time. But if you're a night owl, you need a plan. My best suggestion is to get into bed with a TV (or tablet capable of streaming) and tune in to the On Demand option of one of the oldie stations, like MeTV. A few minutes into a rerun of Matlock or Diagnosis Murder and you'll be out like a light. Or if you're a reader, crack any volume of Churchill's six part history of World War II. Go directly to the appendices (Churchill's personal memos and other papers). Your brain will shut down in the first paragraph.
O-3. A long ride can take a long time, burning up hours you could spend on more fruitful tasks. This one's easy. Well easy for me. As a rule, I avoid fruitful tasks. So a long solo drive keeps me out of range of any that might try to sneak up on me. At least until I get home.
For you reliable pillar-of-the-community types, think of it this way. Everybody needs downtime. You may be more useful and productive after an extended and definitely non-productive drive during which your poor, overtaxed sense of responsibility has a chance to recharge. Also, your constituency may appreciate you more having experienced a little deprivation. If you think I'm just blowing smoke here, you have my respect. And my sympathies. You've got it bad.
O-4. Your vehicle seat might not be that comfortable, leading to back pain, leg cramps, even phlebitis. To last 18 hours in the same seat is a challenge no matter where it is. Fortunately, auto (and in my case truck) seats are somewhat adjustable. So the first thing to try is fiddling with the seat positions - seat up/down and/or forward/backward, backrest up/down, and for slightly upscale vehicles the lumbar adjustment. If you're still concerned about in-flight comfort, I suggest adding a few urgent care centers or truck stop/massage parlors along your route as GPS via points.
The important thing is to at all times keep at least one hand free to search your snack bag for emergency foodstuffs and/or to adjust your array of electronic devices to just the right stimulus. Nothing numbs your awareness of physical discomfort like a two-pound bag of Chex Mix or singing along at the top of your lungs to a 20-song Petula Clark set. I also recommend traveling in cruise control so you can shift your leg and arm positions frequently without erratic vehicle movement (except for those rare occurrences when you need to search the vehicle floor for a water bottle cap or half-eaten snack bar that has tumbled out of your grasp at 75 miles per hour; I hate when that happens).
*******
Also, in the interest of full (or at least near-full) disclosure, I feel compelled to share a couple more factors that have influenced my views on extended solo driving. The first is that, due to my sister's illness, I have had the use of an extra vehicle the last few years (the oft-mentioned trusty, tried and true Toyota Tacoma). This has enabled me to drive at my own schedule and pace and avoid dreaded commercial transportation (airlines, taxis, rental cars) when required to travel on short notice.
The second factor is that due to home-front commitments my bride has not been able to join me on many of my short-notice, semi-urgent trips to Florida. This means that I was often faced with driving home on my own. And wanting to get back home - my favorite place to be - I was well-motivated to keep on truckin' (sorry) until I got there.
And finally, I can't close without coming clean that the only drive I enjoy more than an extended solo stint is one with my bride at my side. Aside from her pleasant company, Nancy likes to drive and is often behind the wheel more than half of the time on our planned road trips. That allows me to stare out the window and lose myself in the passing countryside even more, and play with my electronic toys without those aforementioned erratic swerves across the median while groping for the next disk of an audio book.
So there it is. I'm outed. Fact is, my solo extended drives have usually occurred because there was no one around to go with me. But I still say those drives can be a ball if you do it right.
Epilogue
I started this post a few weeks ago, after I had completed what I thought might be my last marathon solo drive from my mother's home in Florida to Vernier East (the nickname we gave our Grosse Pointe digs years ago when Nancy's dad lived at Vernier West - a condo down the street). But before I could break away from my summer laze on the shores of Lake Huron and finish the story, I found myself again programming the GPS for Zephyrhills. Mom was facing a new health challenge and needed some help. So ten days ago I speed-packed my essential gear, saddled my trusty Tacoma, and hit the trail.
Given my relatively late departure that day (noonish), I didn't try to make the trip in one session, or coast to coast as it's known in our family. Rather, about midnight I stopped for a few hours of poor sleep (strange bed, hard mattress, weird carpet) in a Hampton just north of Atlanta. A 7:00 am departure the next morning put me at Mom's by mid-afternoon. I found her a little better than expected and very happy to have company. After a few days of TLC, a new drug or two, and a trip to an eye specialist, Mom is now on the mend. So I'm aiming the white Toyota north tomorrow.
It will not be a coast to coast trip, as it looks like my departure window will open up mid-afternoon after a late morning commitment, and I am too anxious to return home to wait another 15 hours to leave. But it will still be 18-19 hours on the road within about a 26 hour period.
And as we will be back to a one car family in October, it looks like my solo marathon drive career will actually be over as I pull into the driveway early Tuesday evening (with one car, Nancy and I both go or I fly). So I'm looking at this drive as sort of my farewell tour. The end of an era. Here's a final shot of me and my own personal "Hidalgo" (that famous long-distance champion horse from the movies).
I may have a tee shirt made.
Grosse Pointe Charles
