Caged

I never noticed much before I started riding how claustrophobic the inside of a car can be. I was uncomfortably aware of it today when we rode out to New York to visit the in-laws' graves. Tomorrow will be the 20th anniversary of my mother-in-law's passing and it was a somber trip with each of us pretty much absorbed in our own thoughts.


For a time I looked around kind of studying the inside of the car finding it almost hard to believe that I never really noticed how oppressive the ceiling, the dash, the door frame, the seemingly huge mirror, and other parts in front of me can be. I almost felt trapped and when we stopped at rest areas I was the first one out every time. I suppose I'm going to consider cars as necessary evils for the most part.

I know I'll never be able to ride the scooter all the time with the kinds of winters we have here and when the rains are fierce, but I'm looking forward to my first school year of commuting alone. Our baby will be off to college in a few weeks and when school starts for me I'll be going alone for the first time in many years. In a number of ways I'll be less caged. I'm not terribly fond of change, but I'm ready to take this one by the horns. Okay, handlebars.