My car and I have had some trust issues as of late. Because when someone leaves you stranded on a major Interstate at 1:30 AM…
For the past month, every time I get in my car, I hold my breath. When I ease it into a gear, I wince. When I brake, I pray. Lots.
But today is all about rebuilding the trust between me and my little car…the car I bought after a horrific car accident. It is cold today in the Good Life State. It is Hoth cold. It is so cold that I probably would cut open a Tauntaun and crawl inside its stinky guts to keep me warm.
My car has never not started in extreme cold, but I don’t trust the little minx these days. So I bundled up, trudged outside and hopped in the driver’s seat. I turned the key.
Not even a groan from my car–instant ignition. I let it idle while I brushed off some snow and shoveled a path for tomorrow morning. My car started and idled for 3 minutes without the slightest bit of hesitation.
I really do love my car, and it’s done a lot for me. I’ve forced it through all but 50 of its 111,000 miles. Multiple trips to Utah, a jaunt to Las Vegas, a couple drives to San Antonio, several trips back and forth to Ohio, and let’s not forget this past summer when I drove that car from Omaha to Amherst to Boston to Vermont to Rhode Island and back to Omaha.
All those miles, all those states, all those good times…I can forgive her for one moment of weakness, right?
Right. Especially if she’ll start again tomorrow morning.