It’s More Than Just a Shuttle

🚐 It's What You Make It

There’s a story about three bricklayers. A man asks each what they’re doing. The first replies, “Laying bricks.” The second says, “Building a wall.” The third smiles and says, “Creating a masterpiece.” Same task. Different lens. It’s how we perceive our work that makes it meaningful.

I drive people where they need to go. To some, I’m just a line item—a tax write-off, a ride from Point A to Point B. The car doesn’t matter. The driver doesn’t matter. To others, my shuttle is a safe space. A two-hour conversation that flies by. A chance to tell their story. Sometimes, it’s a quiet ride through the mountains. Sometimes, it’s a spirited debate—politics, religion, or just the best barbecue joint in town.

👁 My Perspective

I’m not just driving. I’m delivering precious cargo.

One rider is headed to meet their first grandchild. Another, to witness the wedding of their only child. One’s off to explore their parents’ homeland. Another, to care for an aging parent, taking their turn in the family rotation.

Some riders pull out a laptop and tap away, lost in work. No small talk. No eye contact. That’s fine. I’m meeting a practical need, not a social one. Others want music—any genre they choose. Some prefer silence. Some start quiet, soaking in the mountain views, and open up once we’re down the ridge.

I let the rider set the tone. If they want to talk, I talk. If they want to listen, I listen. If they want to be left alone, I respect that too.

I know my story. But I don’t know theirs. And many don’t get to tell it—at least not often. So I ask simple questions. Sometimes deeper ones. I learn a lot. I’m constantly amazed by the lives people lead.

📦 Help, I’m Moving

I’ve helped three people “move”—not just from one place to another, but into new chapters of life.

The first was a retired couple and their 17-year-old daughter, plus a cat. They were relocating to Central America—not fleeing the U.S., just chasing a life that fit them better. The ride was festive, full of anticipation. They packed light, but I still used a hitch-mounted cargo carrier.

The second was a fiery woman in her late 70s. She and her late husband were go-getters, successful in their own fields. She’d helped start a foundation to fight poverty abroad. Now she was moving to live among the people she’d spent years helping. Her dog was too old to travel, which broke her heart. She shipped most of her belongings, but I still hauled duffle bags in a utility trailer. I couldn’t imagine her managing all that luggage solo—but she did. She never doubted she could.

The third was a young woman, maybe 20. She was moving north—cold winters, new state, no car. Just three overstuffed suitcases, one cracked. She barely spoke for the first hour. Then slowly, she opened up. She was chasing residency so she could attend university. I’ve moved plenty, but always with a car. I couldn’t imagine doing it her way. But she did. And I was in awe.

❄️ It’s an Emergency!

One snowy January morning, I get a call. Kate (not her real name) is stranded on Beech Mountain with a flight to catch. Michelle, a fellow driver, coordinates with local police to get Kate to a safer pickup point. Michelle brings her halfway down the mountain. I take it from there.

For the next two hours, I learn about Kate’s life—a single mom, a professional photographer, specializing in boudoir shoots for the rich and famous in Florida. She’s stunned by the coordination between civil servants and two shuttle drivers. “This would never happen in Miami,” she says. But here in the mountains? This is how we roll.

🩺 “I Don’t Know What I Would Have Done”

Sometimes I get calls from folks needing a ride to a medical appointment. They’re new in town. Or older. Or on a tight budget. They can’t drive themselves, and their friends aren’t exactly NASCAR material. Uber’s too expensive—especially with wait time. Most shuttle drivers charge for that. And rightly so.

But I’m semi-retired. I don’t need to squeeze every dollar. If I sense someone’s struggling financially, I sharpen my pencil and adjust the fee. I keep my schedule light. A two-hour wait? That’s lunch and a trip to the library for me. I catch up on news, correspondence, or just enjoy the quiet.

These are the rides that bring the most gratitude. Not just tips—but words like: “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

🎯 The Perfect Retirement Gig

People tell me this is the perfect retirement gig. I think they’re right.

I get to provide a service people need. I get to hear stories that stretch far beyond my own circle. I get to listen, learn, and sometimes—just sometimes—make someone’s day a little easier.

It’s more than just a shuttle.

 It’s a front-row seat to the human experience.