Why I Travel

As I walk through the security line at the airport, I notice the guy in front of me, athletic, all button-down shirt and casual cargo pants, with black thick-frame glasses that turn colors as you move in and out of the light. He  carries nothing through security but a black, almost perfectly square cooler. I figure he must have some affliction and he needs his meds kept cold (I know from experience). But appearances and our own biases can be (and very often are) deceiving. 

He pulls a plastic bag out of the cooler, with three (3) frozen solid bottles of Deer Park water. He puts them in the TSA tray and leaves the cooler open. The TSA agent warns the screening guy that “frozen water, coming up!” and moves on to help me with my bag. The athletic guy moves along through the people scanner, chewing gum, completely non-chalant and well-possessed, not even blinking. No explanation. No fuss. Like he owns the world. 

The guy behind me says to the TSA guy: “Excuse me. Umm...What is that, exactly? You are allowed to transport water bottles through TSA if the bottles are frozen?” The TSA guy goes “Yes, sir! That’s right!” The guy behind me says “Well, I don’t agree with it, but wow! Just wow!”

In my mind, I say: “Sorry, buddy, your authority nor opinion is needed here. Move along.” But yes, I am wowed too. 

After I clear security, the first thing I do is google “can you take frozen water bottles through security?” and lo and behold, yes, you can! This just completely baffled me. I have been traveling consistently by plane since 1998 - for those hard of math, that is 27 years. I have counted 10 one-way airline trips (some of them with multiple flights) this year alone and I have never known of such a rule. This was a lesson ... 

As I continue my journey, I come to my gate and we’re ready to board. They tell us, as they often do, nowadays, that the plane is full and to make sure we board quickly and sit down immediately, not to block the aisles, you know ... the usual. Then, they call people by “zones” (some airlines board by groups, some by zones). They call First Class, then Zone 1, then Zone 2. We all wait. And wait. And not one person boards in Zone 1, nor 2. I have never seen such a thing. Again, ever, in all my travels are whole “zones” completely empty with “a full flight”. The gate agent seems totally OK with this, but we’re all looking around like “are they still at the bar or what?”. I am telling myself “this is going to be a trip of firsts, I guess?”. 

After I board (with my zone - I can’t recall what it was, but I am at the end of the darn plane again, zone maybe 7 or some such unlucky number; as a matter of fact, let’s not be ungrateful - zone “never” might be unlucky; the fact that I am on a plane at all is a plus), and after all the people are in their seats, the pilot walks all the way to where I am sitting and hands over a goodie bag to a lucky passenger on account that they are a “first-time flyer”. No, not with this airline but ever. Not sure how they know this? Not sure how or if they verify this, but there it is ... I am shocked. How has someone nowadays, especially in the very large America where people are so spread apart from their families, living in this huge country, never flown? This person is not a toddler either. It’s a mature man with a head full of white hair. They are totally shocked and embarrassed and they accept the bag with a chuckle and applause follows. 

Then, to make it even more unusual, the pilot walks to two rows in front of the man he just congratulated, on the other side of the aisle, and hands over a second goodie bag to another first-time passenger completely unrelated to the first one. Now, I am thinking I must be in a dream: there is not one, but two such rare specimens on my flight. What??? You live and you learn, as the cliche goes. 

As we’re preparing to take off, they make their little announcements and there is a new one for me: they tell us that video taking is “absolutely prohibited”, and this is not an “airline policy, but an FAA policy”. And I pause. Well, if video taping is prohibited, then how come TikTok (at least this is what I hear, since I am lucky enough to not be tethered with such a curse as a TikTok account) full of videos of flight attendants being slapped by or slapping passengers all over the world? Or did the policy come in response to such videos and is new? I am not videoing but I am taking pictures, so I figured I am not in trouble, but my goodness, frozen water first, no videos second, airline rules are moving fast, even for this mildly-frequent flyer... 

As I leave the plane on my arrival to the other end of my trip, at my final destination of Orlando, FL (a destination, I feel, that should require a passport, if you’re coming from anywhere else in the US, even), I head over to the ground transportation area to call an Uber so I can head to my hotel. I was a late adopter of Uber - have been using it for about 3 years - but I have used it on two continents and tried using it on a third one, but the Gods of the travel agency protected me from using it in Africa. Long story, for another entry. 

A cheerful gentleman called Jose arrives and I see a new disclaimer on my Uber app - that Jose is “recording this trip”. Hmm ... Video forbidden on the plane, but obviously running by default in the car transportation. I do not like surprises all that much, but this trip seemed to have it all. 

These are just a few examples from my most recent trip. And this is all to say that one of the main reasons I travel (other than to get where my life takes me) is to learn. Travel is almost a free add-on or bonus of new lessons about how you should behave in the world, how you should carry yourself among other humans. It teaches you how prepared you are to just be a human firing on all your cylinders, and being the best you can be among your peers. It builds tolerance and empathy - which are becoming somewhat endangered nowadays - but this new world we live in, try as it may, I would never, as long as there is breath in my body, want to lose them. 

Travel allows me to make my thoughts, my whole being stop chattering and opinioning and just listen and watch. Assess and propose corrections in my own path. Or not. Travel keeps my senses alert. There are so many things we must be present for in travel - you cannot space out and get lost in your doom-scroll of Instagram when the TSA agent, or a passport control agent demands answers from you. You are forced to connect with the person in front of you and think. Although I like to think of myself as a minimalist when it comes to consuming social media, I still hate when precious minutes go to nothing but mindless scrolling. Travel is not mindless. It is focused, character-building (remember that 20th century concept anyone?) presence. If you don’t have that (presence) while you travel, your very life might be at stake. 

I travel  because I need new energy, from the outer world, to replenish and recharge my own depleted body which becomes stagnant after a while just being enclosed in myself. 

My sister and I grew up “in the mountains”, we call it. We were city girls by birth - born and raised in the second-largest (by population) city in Romania - but for about 3 months every year we would live with our distant relatives in the Northern Carpathian Mountains, with no running water in the house, working tireless every day for our food which came from cows, sheep, chickens, or foraging for wild berries and mushrooms in the woods. This is how we learned physical, manual labor. Life on the land was very different from life in the city. In the city, we learned how to be pedestrians and how to ride with civility in a public transport vehicle. In the mountains, we learned how to listen to nature, and know dangers unknown to the city dweller - like the call of a wolf, or the scratch of a mouse in the attic eating through corn, or getting splinters out of our soft, city hands when we split wood in the woodshed behind the house to make fires every night to heat our rooms in the wood-burning stoves or in our water heater boiler every week for our shower.

Travel reminds me  a bit of those times - when we were forced to live in a completely new environment and we were absolutely forced to develop a new set of skills that would not have been developed otherwise. 

I travel because I know my perception of the world is biased. And I need hard proof for the truth. 

I travel because I am consumed by wanting to know the truth. Is the world really as bleak as the media and social sites claim? Are people as angry and evil? Are they truly hating one another? Travel shows you a different picture of that. Or certifies it for you. But you will never know for sure unless it becomes your experience. 

I travel for food and for new-ness. For taking myself outside of my cocoon of safety and forcing myself to react, to feel, to truly know, and to truly form an opinion. I travel for the surprise of it and its shock value as much as I travel to realize that I had the weirdness and diversity of the world within my soul all along. But I just didn’t know it. 

Travel forces you to think quickly and outside the box. And make do with what’s in front of you. 

Travel forces you to look deeply into your soul and assess - do you like what you see? Here, there are alternatives, would you like to reconsider? I never speak to myself more honestly than when I am traveling - because it forces me to be present and to stay awake and aware for the simple reason to be safe. It also forces me to be awake because everything seems to be new. I cherish getting lessons from everything that I open myself up for. 

I travel because travel leads me to books. And books lead me to travel. And books have been the one, only, constant in my entire life that has never disappointed. Boyd Varty’s Cathedral of the Wild led me to Londolozi which changed my life. Then, Londolozi led me to The Elephant Whisperer which enriched my understanding of human kindness and nature kindness and nature intelligence as well. And the examples are many from so many of my other travels: the innumerable books I read about English and American authors growing up that took me to England and later America where I found my soul, eventually. 

Travel brought me to wonders like the South African wild this year - and what a quantum leap that was! I emerged transformed only with a fraction of my old self from the African bush. It tapped into senses I didn’t know I had. Our over-technological suburban world dims those senses, or, in some cases, completely exterminates them. But going out of our comfort zone (something that is intrinsic to travel) allows our minds and sometimes even our bodies, to develop abilities that otherwise lay dormant or are in danger of becoming extinct because of our lack of need to use them. When you are called to react to things you don’t encounter every day - like a leopard on the hunt, or a pride of 9 lions completely wild, with no circus director to tame them in sight, or a river full of crocs opening their huge jowls at you, or even foods you have never seen but are called upon out of respect to try - you cannot help but learn new lessons and new abilities that you might not have thought you had. 

I turned 50 this year. I read a lot of thoughts on what and who you’re supposed to be when you turn 50 or when you reach your mid-life. Some people are told they are old. Some people fight this concept and feel young or do meaningful things to feel young. Because I live inside this 50 year old body, I feel just like I did when I was 10 or 20. 50 seems to me to be just a number. 

For me, the one thing I want to be or to do going forward (which has not changed just because my ID says I am not a different age), the only thing that I hope will define me in my next decade and beyond and always is the desire to continuously learn. To avidly and voraciously keep learning, with every day, with every trip, with every person or any other being that I encounter. Keep learning and becoming and changing and morphing into who I will eventually leave as my finished “product” on this planet, once my time is up in this realm. 

I cannot think how I would be able to learn without traveling. Just like I have said many times before, stopping traveling is like stopping to breathe for me. I felt like I needed a reminder to reassess why I do it - I do it to remain whole and to keep becoming. Becoming is my now and my future. That is all ... And that is all that matters ... 

One of the places that stays with me, 28 years later: the thermal pools of Pamukkale (or “Cotton Castle”) in South-Western Turkey - I took this picture after I climbed this mountain barefoot with hot streams under my feet on a 100F degree day in August 1997. 

A Touch-Base Blog. A Ramble.

What a big pot of steaming, vitriolic poo this year has been in so many ways! The garbage and vileness, the debasement, the gore seems to gurgle up infinitely from everywhere. If you’ve ever been to Yellowstone or in any other part of the earth where hot, steaming, gurgling poisonous materials come to the surface of the earth, in a stench you can barely take, hot and lethal - you’ll get the very picture of what our world is like today... 

I don’t even think it has to do with one country or another. Sure, there are better and worse places you can be in - but as a whole, even the so-called “good people”, the people on the “right side of history” - even those ... have their blame and their contribution to the current state of the world ... 

There are people literally fighting with their bare chests for their freedom and their lives - and those are the people who are put down and made fun of. The other people, no, not just the aggressors, but the other people, sitting on the sidelines are judging and pointing and laughing and masquerading as political gurus and protectors of freedom. But they are all but actionless. ... Sickness to my stomach sometimes ... 

The world has not yet learned that demonizing the opposition does only one thing: burns the fire under their feet hotter and makes their revenge that much more gruesome. No, I am not saying we should sleep with the enemy, as it were, but we should dang-well make a better effort to understand how they have come so far as to rule the order of things. We should shut up for a minute and listen. And learn. 

It’s a game (their game)  that we (the “good” people) know nothing about. A new game with new rules. But blinded by our rage we fail to learn what the rules are. Cutting our nose to spite our face in the process ... 

Because of where and how I grew up, I know that humans against the system rarely renders humans the victors. Most often than not, the system wins, albeit for only a period of time. I still hope for heroes and wish that people would actually honor their oath. Because so many of them aren’t, right now. But life is seldom fair, and this time is one of those times where fairness has become in dire short supply. 

I decided that I am too small and too powerless to make a significant difference in turning the world on its head to make it “normal” again. I decided a long time ago that I am not of the heroic or patriotic persuasion. I know this of myself and I don’t see it as a failing. 

So, if your people didn’t win, and if you’re a little person with no power to make a difference, your only weapon is to conserve your energy and try to stay sane. You at least owe it to yourself to survive, however you can. To survive and help your kin survive too. 

So, I do what the communists taught us to do: stay low, for a lowered head is rarely severed, and try to protect your own identity. Only staying whole and true to yourself will you weather the storms. This is my full-time focus instead, because this is the only thing I can control. I try to be kind to myself and mine, and to whoever comes in contact with me. I am scared and bloody-knuckled at the end of every day, but I try to build a survival kit for us, too. It’s all I can do to stay sane or preserve some semblance of sanity. I am grabbing tight to those sharp, stoney shores while the torrents are trying to rip my arms off and carry me away ...   

But this does not want to be a political blog. This is just a  “touch-base” blog on our lives, for those who normally keep up with those things ... 

It’s been a busy year for us already, which is amazing given that half of the world would tell you that two middle-aged childless people have absolutely nothing to show for themselves ... Well, anyone can walk a half mile in any of our shoes and they’ll want their lives back, I am sure of it ... It’s perfectly OK. I would not want anyone’s life, either. 

Despite the crazy world stage and the fear of traveling anywhere, despite the fear of maybe never seeing our families abroad or of never seeing them alive or the fear of never coming back home if we venture outside the borders ... life still goes on, as it must. We find things that keep us going and keep us engaged and attentive. 

It’s been a hard year on every level - material, historical, familial, professional, global, emotional - but it’s also been a good year, too ... The blessings are many. I am still not sure if this blog will get posted, or  erased, or would render me in jail, but for now, I am going to post it. To do that - that is a gift. I am not sure if it’ll last, but when are we ever in the business of believing that anything is forever? 

We have learned to be more focused, live more in the moment, and we have learned to help more if and where and how we can. I help my family, my family’s friends, and I keep people who matter close to me. I can only hope they, too, can keep their inner circles close and healthy and so, one circle at a time, we could all become a more empathetic and healthier, and stronger, and less poisonous community. 

There are so many god-awful things in this world of ours that we have no way of changing. None. No power. No means. No reach. But what we can do, we should do. And little by little, the interconnectedness of us all will amount to something better. It must. Do two rights make a wrong? I ponder ... If there is any hope left in the world, maybe not. And there is always hope, we are told. 

We are moved by the belief that what we are witnessing is not new. It’s just humans being human. And they’ve always done this. In some shape or form and intensity, this is the human world in action. It’s just more prominent now as it seems particularly more “everywhere”. It’s not just one country or one group of people - it is everyone. And with the amazing communication we have nowadays (thanks, technology!), it’s in our faces a lot more often than ever before - and being visual is what makes it more gruesome, more real. More “there”. 

I am trying so hard to establish a healthier routine for consuming the news. I try (it is so hard, I won’t lie because my brain’s been re-path-ed already and I am old - so re-learning is not easy) to re-train myself on what to do with my time - not to pick up the phone and start scrolling.

I read three sources or so (four if you count a Romanian one) of news. Because I do want to keep up with the news to see how our lives are changing with the world (faster than ever, and not for the good, I would say). But I try to avoid social media as much as I can - because I am poisoned by everyone’s bias and opinion about the news ... I want the facts alone and I want my brain bandwidth to make up its own bias. 

I avoid Facebook but I am still there every day. I find that Instagram is a lot less poisonous. And I love pictures. So that helps. I absolutely hate memes (yes, “hate” is the right word) because some people stop there with their education. This is unfortunate and does no one any service. 

I try to write more and read more, and more consequential stuff. I subscribe to things that keep my focus captive for longer, more complex thought. Yes, it takes longer but my brain feels so much better and I feel a lot less hateful at the end of the day. 

We go to museums and book launches. We go to concerts and speaking engagements and learn. Kids, I am here to tell you that you will never in fact stop learning. And you should never even consider it. When you do consider it, consider your life over, too. 

We take weekend trips and long walks. It’s an old, rusty, moldy, decrepit cliche that nature nurtures the soul. But truly: there is something restorative in a walk in nature. We take advantage of the freedoms we do have for now - and we believe that there are no guarantees for tomorrow. We recharge to be ready, physically, emotionally, mentally, for what might come ... 

We’re planning for a long and once-in-a-lifetime adventure, and we pray that our years-long plans for this won’t be foiled. But, again ... there are no guarantees. We lead with hope and try to have patience. And still, even in this rotten world, where a big, steaming turd seems to be handed to us every day, we look forward to the good plans we work so hard to keep together. 

I am so incredibly grateful for my family who keeps us sane. We talk, we cry, we laugh, we despair together. And we take time to celebrate the wins! The health, the peaceful days around us, the beauty of our shared children, the beauty and strangeness of the seasons. We take lots of pictures - of good and bad. We want to hold on to the moments we do have, so we document. One day, they might serve as history to someone. 

We are our loudest cheerleaders and that’s OK. As people are more and more self-absorbed and guarded, or reprehensibly vitriolic, we shelter within our own selves, like snails. Waiting for the storms to pass. They might not stop during our lifetime, but we hope to be deep inside, taking care of our own and still breathing. We hope. 

Cardinals have visited us way too often lately. They usually tell me that something bad will happen but that in the end it will all be OK. So, as we all sit on this powder keg of a world, we heed the advice of the cardinals and we wait. 

There is this belief inside me that moves me every day which is made up of some simple truths that give me energy and reason to wake up in the morning.

They go like this: 

What we are witnessing is not new; we are stronger than we think, if only we’d shut up and listen to ourselves; we are deeply human, and deeply flawed - we will never win or lose the war in one battle; there is work to be done; start with the person next to you and do well by them, even when that person is yourself; smile to rejuvenate the brain; it will help you when it’s at peace, and not when it’s at war with itself; think before you do; drink coffee; smell the air after the rain, or even after a forest fire. See the difference. 

These are some of the simple, unarguable truths that move me every day. And yes, I still stray and I get lost - or else I would not be human. But I try to be back at it the next day. And I hold the candle of hope that it will all end well. One day, hopefully with me as a witness ... 

Our guardians, our hope ...

Eastward Bound: UT to NC – Day Four– Little Rock, AR. Trees! Trees! Trees!

This is the fifth entry of a multi-entry series.

• First installment: On the Road Again: Going East Intro (http://wander-world.blogspot.com/2017/10/on-road-again-going-east-intro.html)
• Second installment: Eastward Bound: UT to NC – Day One – Moab, UT. Red Rocks (http://wander-world.blogspot.com/2017/10/eastward-bound-ut-to-nc-day-one-moab-ut.html)
• Third installment: Eastward Bound: UT to NC – Day Two – Albuquerque, NM. High and Winding Roads (http://wander-world.blogspot.com/2017/10/eastward-bound-ut-to-nc-day-two.html) 
• Fourth installment: Eastward Bound: UT to NC – Day Three – Elk City, OK. Get Your Kicks on ... the Windy High Plains (https://wander-world.blogspot.com/2017/10/eastward-bound-ut-to-nc-day-three-elk.html) 

If Western Oklahoma is windy and red-yellow-sandy, Western Oklahoma is lush green and full of trees! Almost no wind, either. I suppose because of the trees. One of the reasons we're moving back to The South is vegetation. We both love the desert, and we agree it has its beauty. However, the stark nakedness of it makes you miss the green after a while. 

After several days of driving through the mountainous deserts of Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico, and the semi-desert of Western Oklahoma, we finally saw much longed trees today, almost the entire way into Arkansas, except for the first couple of hours of driving through Oklahoma. 

While in the dry, naked Oklahoma, we saw skies of menace which reminded us of Kansas seven years ago, when driving towards Utah. Tornado skies are something else - menacing is an understatement. They are a universe all of their own selves. The little lady at a gas station, sporting a Michigan sweatshirt, congratulated us for getting out of there "before the storm and the gusts start". We were grateful, too. A car is an evil thing to manage when the wind pulls it all directions. 

Like a patchwork of American history, Oklahoma is home to many Native tribes. Today we passed through the homes of many Native Nations: Chickasaw, Kickapoo, Seminole, Muskogee (Creek). This is always a rare treat to me, as this, to me, is the real America. It makes me respectful and so grateful that they share their land with us. 

As we approached the Eastern states, even starting yesterday, the weather has gotten warmer and warmer and more and more humid. It's strange that most of the trees in Arkansas and for the most part in Oklahoma, too, have not even turned colors yet – it's past the middle of October. When is the fall starting here?!

Today, for the first time, I heard cicadas when we pulled in for the night in the Little Rock, AR KOA campground. Such a familiar and long missed sound. So soothing to me … For the first time today, we also turned on the A/C in the camper, instead of the heater. Yay – we're in the South! Not our South yet, but it counts.

Driving today was harder than any other day, and not sure why. The altitude has gotten lower and lower and the wind died down eventually towards the end of the day, but the day seemed longer and dragging …

I was so excited to come through Arkansas, the home state of one of my favorite US Presidents (and he is not Republican!). And I was so shocked that even after being through Texas, Arkansas was the first state on this trip to sport a bigger than life "Trump - Make America Great Again" billboard. I was so disappointed, I did not even take a picture. Some things are better to remain uncaptured. 

I always thought Arkansas is a poor state. But looking at the lush green highways that remind you of the Rhine Valley, you would not know it. Stepping inside of one of the communities, with broken roads, and missing street signs, with poor gas stations almost cracking from age and humidity, with leaky appliances and toothless attendants remind you that you thought right. People are ever so nice, though, and such nice, yielding drivers, too

Some camping notes: we see people from all over the country in all these KOAs we're staying at. Seems like mostly older, retired people and all states are represented. KOA campgrounds are magical places – you have running water and electricity just like you would at home. It's such a treat. Thus, the A/C tonight. Hot shower in our own private shower, every morning, night lights and a place to charge all our electronics are some of the luxuries. I sometimes (only sometimes) I get how people can be into the whole tiny living thing. We really are missing very little. Well, besides space, of course.

Gypsy-the-Cat has gotten to have his own routine. He sleeps during our drive in his kennel in my car, and he comes out to the camper for lunch (midway during the day), then goes back to snoozing for the remainder of the drive. He mostly sleeps and eats at night. We found out that even if the litter doesn't smell to us at all, the ammonia in the litter can set off the carbon monoxide sensor in the camper (which is 2 feet away from his litter box). Who knew?!

We also found out that although KOAs may say "full hookups", sometimes, they run out of water. But we have had our emergency supply handy, so we were good. Our neighbors, not so much. 

We're two full days away from our final destination, but having gotten four of the days behind us feels great, albeit incredibly tiring. I do believe we will take the first day we get to North Carolina to just sleep it off … But who knows … “miles to go before I sleep” yet. 

The dark skies before the Oklahoma storm 

On the Western (windy and barren) side of Oklahoma, all trees have this shape, because the winds twists them so 

If I had a dollar for every truck, billboard, sign I have seen through Oklahoma announcing that this is the land of American beef ... I would make it out OK, I think ... 

Oklahoma City skyline. All I could think about driving by it was "The Oklahoma City bomber" 

After a looonggg drive for days through the desert of many states we came to this, largest body of water we had seen for a while. I chuckled when I saw the name of the road right past it: it was Lotawatah Road. And this is a true story! 

Arkansas is like a perpetual park: I have never seen so many National Parks, National Monuments, State Parks one after another within a short distance like in Arkansas

I could not get enough of these trees! 

I never understood this American staple: this is a water park with a giant water slide. They are always, no matter what state, right over the very busy highways! Why some architects deem them picturesque and delightful right next to rush hour traffic is beyond my understanding! 

Bridge over the highway in Oklahoma City

What is the first sandwich I make when I get to my camp site in Little Rock, AR with cicadas chanting outside and dripping sweat from too much humidity?! Why, a tomato sandwich, of course. Yes, I am home. Let The South begin! 

When Time Comes

"You say ‘good bye’, I say hello’." (The Beatles)

There is a time for laughs, and fun, and joy, and then, there are sadder days, of good byes and mourning …

For about a year now, I kept telling myself that I am not ready for a new car. I loved my Toyota Echo. As I have said before, I was attached to it.

It’s been with me for almost 10 years. And I bought it used – so it was even older than that! We have commuted together, gone to parties together, schlepped my nephew around in it, and my entire family, almost all my friends, took my friend to the ER in it more times than I can count … It took my small, very sick, beloved kitty to the vet on his last ride, and back to his grave .... We traveled all around the East Coast, it’s kept me safe while driving through Atlanta, Boston and DC. It’s been through a couple of collisions, but never failed to be a stable, reliable little car! I camped in it (literally), and ate my lunch in it. Read, wrote and napped in it, too! Probably the most amazing thing the Echo’s been through with me, my husband and my three cats is the across America trip of 2010. It did fantastic. It didn’t even need more air in the tires! It flew across the country like an eagle. With purpose, and direction!

Lately, it’s been starting to show signs of aging, however. It was still, I thought, a healthy little car. Since I moved to Utah, where the roads are crap (sorry, it’s true!) , it started squeaking a bit. I lost a couple of tires to the construction madness that we have had on the roads for the past 3 years. Some decal trim started to come off of it. A button inside the door frame that operates the light broke. My antenna was plucked out by the automatic wash … and the likes.

But it was still my baby! It’s been getting me through my crazy commute for the past year or so, 60 miles a day. Every day. Through rain, and snow and ice. It’s always been the absolute most comfortable car I have ever driven. I feel quite at home behind that steering wheel.

I was not ready for a new car, because I loved that little one! But as life would have it, just when I was contemplating that maybe, just maybe after 10 years, 100K+ miles of my own driving on it (135K total for the car), paint peeling off and springs screaming in pain when only my 115 lbs frame sits in the driver’s seat, maybe  … it’s time to say good bye … Just when I was thinking this, the Echo decides this week to throw a “check engine” light on its cute, central console dashboard. A “check engine” light that came with a $2600 + tax + labor fees tag on it.

I think it helped that I was kind of on the fence about buying a car, because my decision not to fix it was pretty fast. As of a couple of days ago, we retired the Echo, and we’re the happy new owners of a white, slightly used Prius. Yes, folks, now, I am “one of them”!

This will take some getting used to. I am still missing my crazy golden unbridled little two door wonder. I still cringe at the new car payment on the new beauty in my garage. But my carbon footprint just shrank! How can I not be happy about that?! Just teasing here, because that’s not why I bought this car. Having a hybrid kind of came to me, I didn’t look for it.

It’s a beautiful car – so far, although it’s not the Echo! … Without a doubt, it’s the most expensive one I have ever owned and the fanciest – leather (which I swore I would never buy!) and all. But as I get older, and I guess wiser about my career choices and savings, and as I find out that life is short and precious, comfort trumps cash for me lately. I tried other Toyotas, before I “settled” for the Prius, but none of them gave me the visibility and comfort in the driver’s seat that the Echo has given me for years. And alas, they don’t make them anymore! So, I settled.

I say ‘hello’ to my new car, with my heart still longing for the old. Life moves on. I hope a nice, college girl finds the Echo, after the dealer fixes it for $200 (and I made peace with that, too), and it goes on and on, as Toyotas go, for many more miles, making her happy and giving her happy memories, just like it did it for me.

And it’s sometimes just time to part with things (yes, things, too, just like lives …) that you love. Sometimes we’re ready, and sometimes life doesn’t ask. It just forces us to. 

 With the Echo in Vail, CO, on our Trans-America trip - 2010

Good bye, little Echo! It’s not because of lack of love. It’s because … it was time! Your place in my heart is safe and forever, don’t you worry!

And ‘hello’, Mr. Prius. Let’s see what your fanciness is all about! And for all of you, you can call me Ms. Green-In-Training. 

And I leave you with the masters ...