The Tao of Teal

Anyone who travels the highway 194 corridor between Boone and West Jefferson, NC has or will experience what I’m about to describe.  For me, I was always running just a few minutes late to something which seemed critically important, when I would find myself stuck behind my neighbor driving his 1994 Teal Ford Festiva.  This car was legendary up in our holler, and though I never met its steadfast operator, I will always be grateful for the extra moments I found in his tail lights.

The Teal Festiva is famous for one thing; its unwaivering commitment to a maximum speed of 45 miles per hour, downhill.   Tailgating, honking, and other harassment will avail you nothing.  You are simply locked in time and space behind this tiny two-door.  You see, this highway winds and twists its way through the serpentine hillsides and valleys of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and there are only 2 passing zones, two small bands of straight away in the 10.2 miles between our former house and town.   These brief moments of opportunity are the only times where a driver can exercise any free will and maintain any hope of his intended itinerary.   The number of cars between you and the aforementioned vehicle, the unpredictable specter of on-coming traffic, and the timidity of those ahead in your lane can leave even these fleeting moments of hope dashed upon the unyielding chrome bumper of an incredibly fuel-efficient force.  

Why is it that when I was most in a rush, least prepared, and most stressed about my incredibly important day, that I found myself in this place behind the most inconsiderate and immovable of drivers?   Obviously, the universe was conspiring against me.  Why was he just plodding along to Mountain City on a mission to pick up his girlfriend, when I was in a desperate rush to be somewhere important?  How could I become so frustrated by tailgaters, but he remain so obtuse to the schedules of others?

The teal car driver, a regular Zen Master, became my unwilling teacher, and I, his unknown student.  Each time I’d find myself behind his car, my reaction rising like bile in my throat, I began to slowly choose another way.  “Feel the Teal, baby, Feel the Teal” I’d repeat until I’d start laughing at the absurdity of my self-importance.  In these moments when forced to slow down and give the lead car a respectable following distance, I found relaxation, acceptance, and let go of all the things that I could not control.  I may not be able to urge the Teal car faster, neither could I safely pass, but I could make a decision of how to react to the situation. These moments were a gift to me, if I chose to see them that way; precious opportunities to forget all the things left undone and return to this one to be here, now.  I would often arrive in a better state of mind to meet the day despite being a few minutes late.  What can you do, when you find yourself stuck behind the Teal?

These days, as we drive the backroads and two-lanes of our country whilst towing our home, our 1957 Sportcraft camper trailer, we are often the cause of similar delays and reactions.  While we more often than not get friendly honks and thumbs up from passerbys, we can also tell when someone is desperate to get around us -- riding 10 feet from our bumper, continuously swerving to the right in a futile attempt to catch a glimpse of the road ahead.  Despite going the legal speed-limit or the suggested safely engineered mph for a given corner, or even doing as Mr. Peters, my driver’s ed. teacher, suggested “drive to the conditions,” we seem to get in the way of life.  People insist on passing us, often in no passing zones, blind corners and hills or other less than safe areas, in their rush to get us in their rear-view.  Are the people they carry or those that care about them worth the risks they take for a few moments of time?  Ironically, we’ll often catch up to these same vehicles at the next light or next slow truck.   

   

We wonder if folks understand the necessary stopping distance of larger vehicles or those with another vehicle-in-tow, at least on some long-forgotten driver’s test level; but, thinking like that everyday doesn’t get folks to their job on time.  They certainly aren’t thinking about what’s safe as they pull out in front of our rig, every single time.  I harbor intricate fantasies of stopping and shaming these drivers into tearful admissions of their reckless decisions.  Here he comes, the teal-caped crusader swooping in to deliver the moral drive-safe message just in time to save the neighbor’s dog.   As much as I fantasize about giving someone a good piece of my mind, a really good talking to, I never do.  What good would it do?  What good does the after-school- special message do but allow the sponsors to pat themselves on the back for giving back to the community?

We’ve come to expect the way others drive, and plan accordingly.  No one wants to be behind the canned-ham trailer with the old farts in it, no matter how much younger we may be.  We drive defensively and I like to think that Mr. Peters would be proud.   But we paid a price for this perspective, not only in the moments stuck behind an extremely unflattering domestic experiment in fuel-economy but in a very close call along the Trans-Canadian Highway which took out our truck but could have taken away so much more.   The driver who struck us was just impatient, trying to get back to his place of work, trying to end his day, and we and about 3 other cars were just in the way. 

Of course I wasn’t thinking about things like that when I was late and needed to be wherever I needed to be; I could be just as self-absorbed.   When I continued in the habit of looking at my phone, messing with the radio, taking corners while steering with my knee, or reaching for something in the back seat while driving, my wife told me something I’ll never forget; “Babe, I know you and if you hurt or kill someone in an accident because you were distracted, you’re never going to forgive yourself, you’ll always live with that guilt, forever.  And, if it’s me you kill, watch out, heaven help you with my mother.”

While I initially argued with her that I had never gotten a speeding ticket or had been in an accident that was my fault, the truth of that statement, the absence of any point scoring guile laid me open.  She’s just plain right;  I would live with that guilt and never get over it.  I realized the truth, I have a choice before something terrible happens while dealing with the unnecessary distractions.  I am not perfect, as my wife still reminds me of what a friend always says to his wife, “Car moving forward, eyes looking forward.”  It’s a simple mantra.

I wish I could say that I have the same Zen state of mind as my Teal teacher.  I wish I could remain unmoored by the cars which haunt my draft zone, urging me to “pick it up a little will ya, buddy?”   I pull over to let them pass whenever I can and wish them well on their way to wherever, other times I just try to stay calm and feel the teal.  Did I mention that he also drove a white Festiva...but only on special occasions.