One of my great strengths has been to be an awesome shotgun and or backseat driver. I have never had a problem with helping my driver with helpful hints on what he or she could do differently to help make our ride safer and a more enjoyable one. I would always take my role seriously and be ever vigilant in my duty offering advice freely and often. Since being on the trail where life happens more slowly and much less congested, I have not been able to perform my task as helpful passenger as before. I sit in my seat and am a bag of nerves. I have worn the break out on the passenger side and all but pulled the handle off the arm rest. My helpful verbal cues have been reduced to winces, whines and groans. Today I just gave up and put my hands over my eyes as we went through the ever-so-busy Hogan road intersection. I remained that way until we came to rest at the gas pump. Where I exhaled, not realizing I had also been holding my breathe.
My husband, Bruce, AKA Batman thought it was funny and we had a very short discussion on why I never want to go to NY and to please not ask me to go there when he goes again for business. I truly have no desire to go there, never have. I’d rather go camping.
This week I actually drove to the big city all by myself. Well, almost the big city, Orono. I am much more comfortable behind the wheel where I am in control then shotgun. I will say, it was a little weird after 6 months of not driving. But just like riding a bike, once you learn you never forget. I still would rather have a set of hiking poles in my hand then a steering wheel.