dear big old magnificent girl,
where to begin? I remember the first time I strapped my fifteen month old babe into your back seat and set off on to Utah roads, where sunsets are pretty and drivers are.....well.....crazy.
It was love at first drive.
You helped us move. Across the valley with stuff piled high, you made trips back and forth and to and fro, carrying our belongings to this little red house.
You brought home another babe, wrapped in pink.
You took us to the store--for groceries and diapers. You took us to the park, to the gym, and to shop for Christmas gifts. You were patient as we dropped cheerios on your floor and changed diapers on your seat.
You drove us through millions and millions of miles of Nevada.
Hundreds of times.
You went with us to Disneyland. Twice.
To the beach each year--the salt would build up on your black paint--I didn't mind.
You drove us up up up until California touched Oregon.
You drove us through the desert--leaving a red cloud of dust behind.
You loved the drive to Montana. Over and over we went.
You helped us explore our mountains. Up hills, down dirt, near cliffs, over passes. You hauled fishing poles, coolers, tents, bikes, and a big hairy dog.
You took kids to and from school, never minding that I was usually eating breakfast or lunch (or both).
You made one more (loooonnnng) trip up to Canada for us, before you bit the dust.
It was a sad day when we got the call. The mechanic called and told Robby he'd better come down to the shop. (wait--you might think this part of the story is just for effect. The mechanic LITERALLY called Robby and told him to come down.....too much to explain over the phone).
You were done. Too many miles on your tired old body.
It was a sad, sad day.
RIP old gal.
May you drive the tree lined roads of car heaven.
love,
me.
Here is one of the last drives she took us on.
Bow Valley Parkway in Banff National Park.
please note: I have never taken a picture of our car. I have no idea what made me decide to take a photo that day, but I did, and I'm so glad.
also note: if you look closely in that photo, you will see that the back window is indeed wrapped in plastic wrap and duct tape. You know, because we are super classy travelers.
The funny thing is, the shattering of the back window had nothing to do with her downfall--it was just bad luck on our way to cross the border.
good times.....good times.
