One of the things I started doing during the pandemic is to go for drives out in the country. It is really nice to get out of the house after being couped up. When I first started doing it I would just drive around town but I soon started going out into the country. It’s both liberating and comforting to see the open fields and small towns. I also like checking out the really old (by American standards) houses you can find out there. One of the games I play is to pick a small town out on the map and pick a route to get there. I then try to find the town without checking my phone. It usually takes me a couple of tries.
On Monday I went for my longest drive yet. I was out there for almost three hours driving through fields and small towns. At one point, I was driving over a very steep bridge. As I started up the bridge I was gripped by a moment of terror. Then I remembered. Until about thirty years old, I had a recurring nightmare. I’d be in a car driving up a steep bridge, but the bridge was too steep and just went forever. The car wouldn’t make it up the bridge or we’d fall backwards into the water or just slide down. Near the bridge was a giant industrial building. I had always thought it was another bridge near my childhood home. But that didn’t really make sense because that bridge isn’t that steep. It was this bridge. It was really steep and there is a giant abandoned factory right next to it. My family must have taken me camping or fishing here when I was a kid. There is a state park just on the other side of the bridge.