“May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds. May your rivers flow without end, meandering through pastoral valleys tinkling with bells…where storms come and go as lightning clangs upon the high crags…’
Edward Abbey –

Traveling to the Pyrenees in a Deux Chevaux, (2 CV) with a total stranger can be a decidedly intimate and entertaining experience especially when the 2 CV is British-built with right hand steering and the driver’s good ear is on the other side of his head next to the window.
Me – “Where’s the map?”
Stranger – “It does, doesn’t it?”

Driving can also be a stressful activity, especially when the only language common to both of you is English, except that one of you speaks only Yorkshire English, which is actually closer to Old Norse and equally indecipherable over the clatter and din of the engine.
Stranger – “Chuffin’ eck!”
Me – “Do you mean ‘fucking A’?”
Stranger – “Now then.”
‘Me – “Now then, ‘what’?”
Stranger – “No, ‘now then’ in Yorkshire, means ‘what’?”
Me – What does ‘chuffin’ eck’ mean?”
Stranger – “It means, ‘we got the car started’!”

I’d been invited by a member of the Club Rétromobile du Bas Armagnac (The Old Car Club of the Lower Armagnac) to a rally starting in the village of Estang, my closest, small village, and ending at the Col de Tourmalet, along one of the highest roads in the central Pyrenees and often scaled by the Tour de France – a 396 km, 256 mile, round trip. I knew from the moment I arrived in Estang at 7:30 in the morning, it was going to be an especially long day, maybe a long day’s journey into night, but I embrace the idea of going someplace I’ve never been before each year and decided to go anyway.
Me – “Here’s the map?”
Stranger- “It does, doesn’t it?”

I know driving meditation seems counterintuitive, but it tuned out to be magically lyrical. Obviously, when you’re driving, it is not advisable to close your eyes and focus on your breathing, nor when you are a passenger and the driver doesn’t have a clue where he is going. But I discovered that driving in a 2 CV along back country and mountain roads was like riding on a waterbed floating on 4 thin tires. And because we often hover in attentive awareness of the moment, I experienced moments of intense clarity, a ribbon of twinkling lights along the highway of life.

So, here are some ideas for ways that you can use driving as a meditation: Turn off the radio, cd player, cell phone, i-pad, i-phone, etc., and sit in silence. Sitting still can be a marvelous opportunity for developing lovingkindness. Begin with yourself and repeat as often as you like – May I be happy, may I be well, may I be safe, may I be peaceful and at ease. Leonard Cohen advises, “Sitting still is a way of falling in love with the world and everything in it.”
Me – “We’ve lost them. Take the next road.”
Stranger – “Okay…any road?”
Me – “No, the next road. You’re going down a one way road!  When everything’s coming at you you’ve taken the wrong road!”
Stranger – “No, you see ‘any road’ in Yorkshire means ‘anyway,’ like ‘anyway, where do you think we’re going’?”
Me – “Don’t look back. We’re not going THAT way!”…May I be happy, may I be well, may I be safe…

The attention that’s now freed up because you’re no longer listening to social media is available to regard other things. Notice the tension in your body, such as a knot in the pit of your stomach or your clenched jaw. Notice your breath, your pounding heart. Try to let your body unwind and connect with your breathing. Notice how your experience alters and becomes pleasurable as your muscles reluctantly relax. You’re on cruise control now.

The 2 CV was designed for a unique way of life, a French peasant’s way. It was built to be driven by anyone who knew nothing about the internal combustion engine, although one of my driving companion’s pluses is that he has owned many vintage cars and knows exactly how to coddle this 2 – horse powered – collector’s item. It can carry a basket of eggs over a plowed field without one of them breaking. The seats can be removed in less than a minute for an impromptu picnic, or to load a goat in the back. Its top speed is 60 kmph or 37 mph.
Me – May the stranger be happy, may the stranger be well, may the stranger be safe, may the stranger be peaceful and at ease.

We are just beginning the ascent into the Pyrenees after a long stretch of highway through the Adour River Valley. It’s almost lunchtime and we’ll be stopping once we’ve reached La Mongie, a skiing paradise 19 km below the Col de Tourmalet. Our itinerary cautions us to be very careful of other drivers and any animals we encounter. So often we can become competitive while driving. Practice noticing cars, in front of you and the cows beside you. Be aware and be respectful. It’s harder to be competitive when the cows are bigger than the cars. As the cows pass you wish them well.
Me – May the cows be happy, may the cows be well, may the cows be safe, may the cows be peaceful and at ease.

As passengesr we are easily distracted by what is around us. The scenery is breathtaking.  We reach the parking lot of the Pic du Midi ski lifts, where we’ll stop for lunch. After a lunch at La Choucas restaurant we continue the last leg of our journey to the crest of the Col de Tourmalet. Now the road is blocked by sheep,

Our climb is treacherous. Once around the bend we notice there are no guardrails! Remarkably, all of the old cars make it to the top.

We’re at an elevation of 2,115 meters or 6,939 feet. Mist is gathering and it’s cold. Before starting our descent several people want their photos taken in front of the large statue of Octave Lapize, a Tour de France cyclist, gasping for air as he struggles to make the climb. It starts to rain.

Our descent is very slow and the proper etiquette requires that we stay together. The 2 CV’s windshield wiper speed is proportionate to the speed of the car, since its cable is connected to the transmission and speedometer. We can hardly see anything. I realize I’ve been holding my breath around the last curve when we pass the parking lot where we had lunch. I exhale. Have you ever lost your attention to such an extent that you reached your destination without knowing how you got there? The drive back is equally slow. A few people get lost and one of the 2 CV’s breaks down and has to have it’s battery first charged, then replaced.

We pulled into Estang at 8 p.m. I took a couple of deep breaths and released them slowly. I have learned a journey is best measured by spending time with new friends, rather than in kilometers or miles.
My friend, no longer the Stranger – “Chuffin’ eck!”
Me – “Do you mean, fucking A?”
My friend – “Now then”.
Me – “Now then, ‘what’?”
My friend – “No, ‘now then’ in ‘Yorkshire’ means ‘what’?”
Me – What does ‘chuffin’ eck’ mean?”
My friend – “Fucking A!”

May my friend be happy, may my friend be well, may my friend be safe, may my friend be peaceful and at ease.