Life is a highway, Part 2

Courtesy of the NPA

Besides Black-Black alertness aids, good 'ol coffee is a performance multiplier during these long drives. The downside is sipping java does impose extra visits to the rest room at the roadside service areas. At one of these inevitable breaks, I came across a manga poster (above) from the National Police Agency of Japan. It was placed right above the urinals in the men's restrooms. Captive audience, right? The poster presents warnings that it's against the law to drive recklessly and the legal consequences of road rage. As a public service announcement, it's a smart way to get into the heads of male drivers and coax them to not be flaming a**holes and to drive responsibly.

The Great Middle of the Journey
We approached Nagoya via a new section of the Shin-Tomei expressway. By then, the ladies were asleep and I was motorvating solo. We drove through a new, very long tunnel with green-colored light rings projected onto the tunnel walls.

 

These green rings seemed to move forward along the wall surface. Their pukey-looking shade of green reminded me of the slime monster in the first Ghostbusters movie.

 

Courtesy of Columbia Pictures

The wall rings' forward motion practically prompts you to drive faster than the speed limit AND have a bowel movement. Perhaps the Big Idea behind these moving rings is to keep drivers awake, or engaged enough to stay in one lane, or to maintain traffic flow with green signaling no traffic jam in the tunnel? None of these change my notion this is the most dazzling display of wasted taxpayer yen I've encountered in quite some time.

I drove on. It's always a good idea to stop for a snooze when everyone else is sleeping and solo head bobs start happening to you despite the kickass music. So, after passing Kobe at about 0400 in the dead of night, I pulled over into the Miki Town service area. I soon joined hundreds of other nappers doing the same recuperative snooze in their car seats with air conditioning running. Remember, it's still over 28-30 degrees and oh-so humid even at the witching hour. Hearing nothing but car engines in the dark deep of night – no people talking, very few people moving about -- is a bit creepy.

I bagged some quality shuteye and kept going. I snapped a few photos of the Rising Daughters all cute and curled up in the back seats. It reminded me of the little girls they were only a few years ago. After merging with the Sanyo Expressway, the vehicle traffic is more manageable and the road space feels wider. Naomi woke up, and we talked about how it somehow felt different because we'd passed through the major cities and were nearly at her folks' home. Fewer cars and trucks, fewer fancy tunnels and light contraptions. 

She snapped a photo of the sunrise in our rearview mirror. It's humbling to see the sun rising and the moon disappearing within the same panorama of sky framing the road ahead.

After scanning this rapturous view, my co-pilot wife again nodded off while listening to music on her iPhone. I was pondering the universe underscored by the thrum of the car engine. Then one of my daughters ripped out a loud and proud -- but nontoxic -- righteous fart that made me laugh aloud. Happy endorphins flowed and I was giggling--back in the McMurphy zany zone.

Arrival rituals
As we drew closer to Hiroshima, I planned our schedule so we wouldn't arrive too early at Naomi's parents' place. We did not want to obligate our wonderful hosts to feed and welcome us at an absurdly early hour. So, I slowed down and we exited the expressway near a Joyfull family restaurant. They offer the best value of the casual family restaurants here and are easy to find in southern Japan. After nine hours in a car together a Joyfull "morning course" and refreshing drinks are crucial to raise morale. It's long been a tradition for these trips. And Joyfull rarely disappoints, priming us for arrival and to signal the start of our visit.

Every one of these long drives is a catharsis. It's about focus, endurance and fun for me. It doesn't matter if it's two wheels or four, I delight in the freedom of movement and the rituals of the voyage, and I always have.

"The pleasure we derive from journeys is perhaps dependent more on the mindset with which we travel than on the destination we travel to.” 

 - Alain de Botton

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Life is a highway, Part 1

Prologue
We prefer to drive from Yokohama when visiting Naomi's parents whether it's for summer vacation in August or New Year's chillier temperatures. It's cheaper and easier than flying or taking the bullet train. The journey is about 800 kms on the expressway, which works out to about 10-11 hours' duration from start to finish. I drive overnight to avoid the world-class inbound or outbound traffic jams from the Tokyo area especially prevalent during long national holidays. The bumper-to-bumper jams can be 20-30 kms long. Ugh.

In real terms, imagine, if you will, driving all night in the darkness with periodic stops for gas, food and toiletry. But it's mostly just you, the captain of the ship, the family, and the road. It's a deliberate choice, these night drives. And when the family sleeps your mind takes off-ramps into deeper thoughts that aren't possible in today's always-on lifestyle. When you switch on the car engine, you switch off the attention deficit default of constant connectivity with your devices. Your focus is only on the road.

Here's a few vignettes from our most recent drive from Yokohama to Hiroshima to visit the in-laws.

Pre-departure
Despite successful completion of plenty of long-haul highway journeys, my loved ones lecture about the dangers of overnight driving and how I must sleep a prescribed amount of time lest we become a vehicular fireball. Everyone is worried I'll drift off to sleep at the wheel. 

Credit:Warner Bros.

Feeling like a maniacally grinning McMurphy in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," in the afternoon I pop a sleeping pill to get the rest I need to remain alert during the long haul.

Before we began the drive, I regressed to being a sexist pig and insisted on repacking the trunk of our SUV myself because I always contend that men pack large heavy objects better than women. And you know what? Experience proves me right. I had initially relented and let my wife and daughters pack our luggage into the SUV, and it turned into a clusterf**k with zero rear window visibility. Ignoring their venomous stares, I pulled out all the bags and boxes, and tersely packed it low and tight. Efficient. Boo-yah!

The real departure
We left almost on time at 2000 and immediately went off schedule on account of stopping for dinner at an expressway rest stop not 15 kilometers from our Yokohama home! That's because "it is famous and serves good food." Wazzat all about? Deciding on which mediocre food court stall to eat and which giftshop to buy gifts for friends and parents-in-law created intense debate and horse-trading. This is the point in the journey where I'd have my first drink if drinking and driving were still legal. Instead, I popped several perfectly legal Black-Black "strong type" caffeinated mint candy capsules to forget the gifting gab and get primed for the road. 

Courtesy of Lotte

Wired magazine describes their taste as "Sambuca spiked with Vicks VapoRub." For me, they taste like inevitable success.

After my wife and rugrats settled into their seats, I pushed the engine start button to get going, gently pressing down on the gas pedal and nudging our Gallic SUV into the expressway lanes. It was finally dark out and we left the crowded confines of the Tokyo plain. I headed into the mountains. Thankfully, my passengers' yapping ceased, and they retreated to their individual screen and musical diversions. That meant no complaints about my incrementally higher speed.

What fuels the urge to drive faster in the humid summer night? Besides the Black-Black go-go mints? Music, baby. The Who's "Sparks" and side 2 of Led Zeppelin's "Houses of the Holy." That's the musical aperitif to get your driving mojo going. Then the Doors' "L.A. Women" intensely throbbing basslines compel multiple lane changes Just Because You Can. Throw in some Pearl Jam and Soundgarden. Then long, long  bouts of James Brown's funkatude to get creative thoughts brewing.

Driving into the mountains near Mt. Fuji the ambient skylight of the Tokyo metropolis recedes. It is truly a dark highway except for the offramps and toll booths. The big commercial trucks on their night haul routes dominate the space.

Those truckers make you want to have James Bond 007-like options such as rearward oil-spewing pipes, roof-mounted sniper rifles, or laser guided mini-missiles to take them out and clear the road. It's hard knowing you're the best driver on the highway, bar none, while all these other driving greenhorns are holding you back from your birthright as King of the Highway.

Ed. note: This isn't "Ford versus Ferrari" quality storytelling folks. Still, Part 2 is coming soon.

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