The Oddly Simple Joy of the Pandemic Drive

Tim Healey
by Tim Healey

Like a lot of people, I’ve been driving less on average since the pandemic began. This presents a problem when part of your job requires testing cars.

I like to get a minimum of 60 miles on a vehicle I’m testing. Before March of last year, that was easy to do even though I work from home and live in a dense, urban part of Chicago in which most retail establishments I’d drive to are a short distance from home. That’s because I’d have to trek to O’Hare for a press junket, or to the suburbs for an event being held by an automaker, or to those same suburbs to socialize with family and friends.

That, obviously, got taken away for me as it did for everyone. So in order to properly test cars for review (housekeeping note – a bunch are coming now that I’ve finished some behind-the-scenes projects that were major time sucks) – I’ve had to do something I did before the pandemic on occasion and just carve time for a drive.

I usually get up on a weekend morning at a time that was once unthinkable to a younger me, cook up a nice breakfast, and head out on one of two drive loops I know (sometimes I explore a third area) that combines urban streets, freeway, and curving roads (Chicago isn’t Southern California, but there a few decent roads in the metro if you know where to look). I do it even with vehicles that aren’t particularly fun to drive or really meant to be pushed, just so I have a better sample of a vehicle’s behavior than I would if all I did was run to the market.

To be clear, I’m not doing some buff-book “at the limit” shit. I keep my behavior in check as best I can (I’ve already received one speeding ticket this year), and I intend to return each car to the press fleet in one piece. I just want to push things enough to better understand any given car’s dynamics.

The hour or two a week I spend on this has been a lifesaver, in terms of mental health.

That’s because it’s one of the few things I can do outside the home that is very low risk in terms of catching COVID. And it’s one of the few things I can do that reminds me of Before Times normality, even if there’s hand sanitizer in the cupholder and a mask on the passenger seat.

Not to mention that driving is fun. Commuting sucks, but actual driving is fun. Even if I am just doing a relaxed cruise, I usually enjoy the process of moving a two-ton hunk of metal from point A to point B.

Yes, driving can be fun. But I touched on how going for a spin reminds me of normal life from the Before, and that is, I think, the biggest thing for me right now.

So little of life is what we thought of as “normal” now. I rarely see friends and family in person. If I go to happy hour, it’s not at a bar – it’s on Zoom and I don’t leave my house. I wear a mask in public for my safety and the safety of others, and I worry that any trip to the store could get me sick. I miss restaurant meals.

But I can drive. I don’t have to wear a mask alone in the car – though I keep it with me in case I need to run into a store. Yeah, the bottle of hand sanitizer also reminds me that the world is weird right now, but otherwise, I can pretend, just for a time, that we’re not in a global pandemic.

The rest of the time, I am reminded the world is in the midst of a global health crisis. Every hangout that’s on Zoom instead of in person, every live sporting event I watch that has no fans, every time I see masked people on the street (or whenever I put mine on), every time I see that a favorite bar or restaurant is “temporarily closed.” Every time I check the news, even. Every waking hour I am reminded that we’re in a pandemic.

Except when I’m cruising the Edens Expressway, music blasting, on a trip to nowhere special. Except when I’m hitting an on-ramp just hard enough to get some tire squeal. Except when I’m working through some corners on a twisty road.

Eventually, the car is parked and it’s back to reality. But for a couple of hours each week, I take a trip back in time 10 months to when the world, flawed as it is, wasn’t in the grips of a deadly virus. If I couldn’t do that, well, let’s just say I never thought I’d understand Jack Torrance in The Shining so well.

Go for a drive.

[Image: GM]

Tim Healey
Tim Healey

Tim Healey grew up around the auto-parts business and has always had a love for cars — his parents joke his first word was “‘Vette”. Despite this, he wanted to pursue a career in sports writing but he ended up falling semi-accidentally into the automotive-journalism industry, first at Consumer Guide Automotive and later at Web2Carz.com. He also worked as an industry analyst at Mintel Group and freelanced for About.com, CarFax, Vehix.com, High Gear Media, Torque News, FutureCar.com, Cars.com, among others, and of course Vertical Scope sites such as AutoGuide.com, Off-Road.com, and HybridCars.com. He’s an urbanite and as such, doesn’t need a daily driver, but if he had one, it would be compact, sporty, and have a manual transmission.

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  • 0grayscale1 0grayscale1 on Jan 08, 2021

    For years now, every time I come back from a drive in my car, my wife always notes that I am in a much better mood with a smile on my face and a bit more spring in my step. This is even more-so now during the pandemic. Top down, feeling the environment, rowing through the gears, hearing the exhaust note, feeling the g-forces; going for a drive is like a mini-vacation for me each time.

  • Southerner Southerner on Jan 08, 2021

    You miss restaurant meals? Well come on down, my friend. Florida is open for business! No shortage of dining options here. So grab the Missus, the young'uns, Beethoven and Buffy and have yourselves a good ole time on a real road trip.

  • Whynotaztec Like any other lease offer it makes sense to compare it to a purchase and see where you end up. The math isn’t all that hard and sometimes a lease can make sense, sometimes it can’t. the tough part with EVs now is where is the residual or trade in value going to be in 3 years?
  • Rick T. "If your driving conditions include near-freezing temps for a few months of the year, seek out a set of all-seasons. But if sunshine is frequent and the spectre of 60F weather strikes fear into the hearts of your neighbourhood, all-seasons could be a great choice." So all-seasons it is, apparently!
  • 1995 SC Should anyone here get a wild hair and buy this I have the 500 dollar tool you need to bleed the rear brakes if you have to crack open the ABS. Given the state you will. I love these cars (obviously) but trust me, as an owner you will be miles ahead to shell out for one that was maintained. But properly sorted these things will devour highway miles and that 4.6 will run forever and should be way less of a diva than my blown 3.8 equipped one. (and forget the NA 3.8...140HP was no match for this car).As an aside, if you drive this you will instantly realize how ergonomically bad modern cars are.These wheels look like the 17's you could get on a Fox Body Cobra R. I've always had it in the back of my mind to get a set in the right bolt pattern so I could upgrade the brakes but I just don't want to mess up the ride. If that was too much to read, from someone intamately familiar with MN-12's, skip this one. The ground effects alone make it worth a pass. They are not esecially easy to work on either.
  • Macca This one definitely brings back memories - my dad was a Ford-guy through the '80s and into the '90s, and my family had two MN12 vehicles, a '93 Thunderbird LX (maroon over gray) purchased for my mom around 1995 and an '89 Cougar LS (white over red velour, digital dash) for my brother's second car acquired a year or so later. The Essex V6's 140 hp was wholly inadequate for the ~3,600 lb car, but the look of the T-Bird seemed fairly exotic at the time in a small Midwest town. This was of course pre-modern internet days and we had no idea of the Essex head gasket woes held in store for both cars.The first to grenade was my bro's Cougar, circa 1997. My dad found a crate 3.8L and a local mechanic replaced it - though the new engine never felt quite right (rough idle). I remember expecting something miraculous from the new engine and then realizing that it was substandard even when new. Shortly thereafter my dad replaced the Thunderbird for my mom and took the Cougar for a new highway commute, giving my brother the Thunderbird. Not long after, the T-Bird's 3.8L V6 also suffered from head gasket failure which spelled its demise again under my brother's ownership. The stately Cougar was sold to a family member and it suffered the same head gasket fate with about 60,000 miles on the new engine.Combine this with multiple first-gen Taurus transmission issues and a lemon '86 Aerostar and my dad's brand loyalty came to an end in the late '90s with his purchase of a fourth-gen Maxima. I saw a mid-90s Thunderbird the other day for the first time in ages and it's still a fairly handsome design. Shame the mechanicals were such a letdown.
  • FreedMike It's a little rough...😄
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