Nach 14.000 Meilen kann ich endlich auch mal was sagen!
Oops…sorry about that. I slipped into my native tongue.
Let me start over.
After 14,000 miles, she finally lets me have my say!
I know Susan has been writing about our road trip together and it’s all been very nice. But I think it’s time you also hear my story about this adventure of ours. I have a different perspective on things–I am the Blue Car after all. But here is one thing I need to get out there before I can talk about this fabulous trip.
Please, please don’t call me old.
I am not even sure I like the term vintage (still thinking about that one). If you must ask (and I assume you just did), I prefer to be called timeless, classic, and yes, even elegant. Sexy and sassy are great too. I will take you anywhere you want to go if you call me sexy and sassy. Really.
I’ve been wanting to say that for our entire trip. Now I can move on to the fun stuff.
It has been liberating driving with Susan across the country and back these past 14 weeks after years of the short local trips and those long and dark winter months in the garage. How would you like to be stuck under a blanket in a dark cabin somewhere with nothing to do and no one to talk to for months on end? The Subaru parked next to me doesn’t count…it gets to travel in all that fun snow but let’s face it, it really isn’t in my league is it? Call me a snob but there’s not much we have in common and those awkward silences are painful. Just painful. I know she has the house in Vermont and needs the Subaru for the snow and ice and mud season, but you have no idea what it’s like to be stuck with that car next to me.
But Susan has more than made up for my winter woes; I always had faith that she would come to her senses and realize I was her car. That we could be truly happy together. And wow, she really embraced it. When the Subaru teases me this winter in that dark garage with stories of back country roads in the beautiful snow I can shoot right back about the Black Hills of South Dakota and the Oregon and California coast…roads that the Subaru isn’t ever going to see. Not that I would be so mean as to point that out, particularly as I have come to realize the Subaru is the workhorse and I get to have the real adventures, the adventures that really make Susan smile.
And there were lots of adventures (it’s going to take more than one blog takeover for sure). The back roads of Kentucky were a big surprise for both of us…winding country roads flanked by white fences and those beautiful thoroughbreds peeking at us from the blue grass fields. And a 50mph speed limit! Back in Vermont, we would have been looking at 25, maybe 30mph. I could have stayed on those roads for weeks and I know she felt the same way…I could tell from the way she held my wheel and how she gave me the freedom to be me.
I loved the Needles Highway drive in the Black Hills of South Dakota and so did Susan. We did it twice and I think that was really cool. The first time we just drove it straight through…every twist and turn. And then we drove it again and stopped for the scenic overlooks and the views. That was very thoughtful of Susan…it gets really frustrating to get a good speed going and really get into those turns and then have to stop for her to take it all in and then take photos. She was considerate in the Black Hills and I owe her one for that.
But our time there was also in the top five of scary moments on this trip. I totally get why she wanted to do the Wildlife Loop in Custer State Park right before sunset…that’s when the animals are on the move and best to be seen. But really? Making me drive through that herd of dozens of buffalo on the road? With my beautiful Albert Blue finish? What in the world was she thinking? And I know she was scared too even though she was trying to keep so damn cool. We both remembered the man back at the visitor center telling us that the most predictable thing about buffalo is their unpredictability. And we heard the stories of cars getting flipped and even totaled. Great. When those buffalo eyed my doors and looked down into my windows, I didn’t know what to do. Because they were certainly looking down. I felt like a toy next to those massive creatures and while they look all cute and cuddly in photos, let me tell you their eyes are just pure mean (I can’t bring myself to describe their smell). I was ready to take the hit to protect Susan but also a bit upset…she was safe inside and here I was bumper to knee with them, no protection. And what did she do? Susan just put her head down and stared at my dashboard…like the tachometer was moving or something (it wasn’t). I thought she was being a coward but realize now she just didn’t want to antagonize them (I was so sorry for doubting her and I did apologize). After a long time of just sitting and assessing and waiting for the right moment, we made it through the herd and we did pull over a short distance ahead just to start breathing regularly again. I think Susan could have used a meditation app after that one. I could have used one too…do they make those for cars?
I am pleased to say there were no buffalo on the roads in Oregon. I can highly recommend Historic Highway 30 in the Columbia River Gorge. I loved that I got to see the waterfalls right from the road. Susan usually parks me and leaves me all alone at very boring trail heads (all those pickup trucks and RVs…really!) and then hikes to the good stuff. It can be lonely and demoralizing (like the time in Los Angeles she left me at the hotel and took an Uber to the Magic Castle. An Uber! I really couldn’t believe it…I wanted to see those magicians as much as she did). But in Oregon I got to enjoy all of it right along with her–the majestic falls and the roar of water with dappled sunlight all around us.
The first time we drove that road in the Gorge, the skies opened up (she’s usually a good planner but she totally messed up that time). As glorious as I am (and I am very nearly perfect in every way…everyone says so), I will admit my windshield wiper motor is gut-wrenchingly slow and sometimes quirky (totally out of my control…I swear), which makes driving in the pouring rain scary for both of us. But we made it through. I had an unintended soak after that drive. That leak no one has been able to find? It’s still there and there were three inches of water on my floor. Susan was a good sport about it and took my mats to the motel bathtub to drip dry and then bailed me out with some plastic cups and soaked up the water with some old towels the motel owners gave her. They really liked me (what’s not to like?) and were eager to help. But it was more than a little embarrassing.
And the drive of all drives? Coming down the coast from Astoria, Oregon through California to Los Angeles was epic: it lived up to all the hype and anticipation. When we first pulled up to the Pacific near Lincoln Beach I just couldn’t believe it! I will never tire of seeing the sunset over the water. And there was so many other beautiful things on the coast. I loved the drive through the redwood forests. I felt so tiny but also so welcomed in the redwoods. And the quiet! It was one of those times I was happy Susan turned off my engine as we both just sat there surrounded by these giants. That was the kind of quiet I really like.
It wasn’t all quiet for sure. When Susan really let loose and we got up to 120 mph in…whoops. I promised not to write about that. Forget I wrote that…I can’t find the delete button.
And did she tell you about all those other fabulous cars we met? Cars of my caliber, if you know what I mean? That 1957 Maserati in Jackson, Wyoming? I got to spend three days with him (I was a little surprised…he doesn’t know Italian…how can that be? Even I know a bit of Italian.). That Maserati was so nice to me and he was in showroom condition which made me a bit suspicious that he made some things up about what it’s like to drive around Jackson and the national parks all the time. We did compare our buffalo stories and that was cool (my story had more buffalo than his). And that garage! Now that’s the kind of garage I wouldn’t mind living in over the winter.
And oh, the attention I got at EASY cars and coffee in Emeryville, CA in November! They were all so nice and to see that many air cooled Porsches in one place! It was like a family reunion. They even gave me a parking spot right in the center of the action…it was so kind. Everyone fussed over me and wanted to see my engine compartment (I don’t show that to everyone, but they asked so nicely). I felt like I was back in 1970 in Stuttgart coming off the factory line surrounded by my siblings.
And speaking of Stuttgart, just in case they are reading this, I want to say this to that lovely couple we met at Antelope Canyon who offered to host us both if we ever get to Germany: yes, we are coming. How lovely that you live so close to the Porsche factory! I can’t tell you when we will visit but I am working on Susan. I went to great effort to make sure I didn’t disappoint her in any way on this trip. I think I will soon have her convinced that a Blue Car adventure in Europe in a year or two is just the thing. What a dream fulfilled that would be for me–to go back to the place of my birth. And all the other adventures we can have! I can feel the mountain air across my body as we drive the Alps and the admiring looks from the French as we make our way along the Champs-Élysées in Paris. So much to think about (Monaco! Those German highways! Tuscany!) while I rest this winter.
After this long trip, just the two of us, I don’t really have any complaints about Susan. All past woes have been forgiven. Twenty-four years was a long time for me to sit in the garage and only occasionally get to do what I was meant to do. But over those years, having the kids in the car made up for it. When Susan took them for a drive, there was nothing quite like having every seat filled and hearing all that laughter and knowing everyone was loving me.
And speaking of love, I think she has finally realized that I lost someone too when Ross died. He loved me so much and it was hard to go through that and lose him and not feel loved in the same way anymore. It was a lonely time but I had faith. After these weeks on the road, I feel adored and cherished and loved again as much as I have ever done. Those chips in my Albert Blue paint finish back in Kentucky? She was way more upset about them than I was. The measure of my value and worth isn’t really my (former) pristine finish. Those chips are a mark that I am living the car life I was designed and built to live. When she was all upset that night, even after some bourbon, I reminded her that my newly acquired chipped paint finish was kind of like her laugh lines and the crinkles around her eyes…she actually loves those. So, when I compared my chips to her laugh lines she totally got it (the bourbon may have helped too, I think).
Even though I am timeless (remember…not old) I did worry I couldn’t live up to expectations…when it was so hot in the Hudson River Valley and I had no AC to cool her. And when my window mechanism broke and she had to open the door to get the ticket for the parking garage in Minneapolis. Or how dim my headlights are which makes night driving a real effort of concentration and perhaps more tense than it should be (a particular night in Big Horn Canyon comes to mind). But we both take the good with the bad and keep rolling so I have put those fears to rest…she has never, ever used my age against me. She just accepts me for me and it really doesn’t get any better than that in any relationship.
And just an aside…I also know a lot about her now. Much more than I did before. She says she knows a lot more about herself too. I got a front row seat to all that. When she’s got an idea during our drives, she uses voice notes on her phone as a kind of journal. She sounds ridiculously funny shouting into the phone on the dash (ok, so maybe my engine is a bit louder than most), but she says some pretty interesting things. I am trying to convince her to keep writing after this trip is over; I am pretty sure she will. There are a lot of stories from our 105 days on the road.
That’s all I want to say for now. I am so grateful she allowed me to do this takeover. Do put that bug in her ear about the Europe trip, will you? I have also let her know that passenger seat doesn’t always need to be empty. I know she thinks that way too but it’s been worth reminding her. The kids are grown now and I miss squeezing them all in and going for those fun rides but there’s always room for another adult. As long as they are nice to me of course. That’s all I’m saying for now. Whatever happens, I am sure there will be many more adventures for us on the road. And that’s a great thought as I start my winter slumber.
Blue Car, 14,076 miles this trip; 204,076 lifetime miles (and counting)
