Miss Ellie here; most of you know the story of my previous life, a life spent in relative luxury. Pops protected me from the sun, personally changed my oil every three thousand miles, and generally treated me like a queen for the with regular spa days. I had every intention of spending my whole life with him, but life is what happens when you’re making other plans, and our time together came to an abrupt end when, after thirty years, he passed away.
What next, I wondered? Where would I find someone that would care for me the way that Pops did? Certainly not the parade of tweakers and tuners that whizzed up and down the road where I was displayed for sale; it was quite obvious that they had no idea how to properly treat a lady of my age and breeding.
Then here comes Charlie and dad; it was obvious that they saw something in me, a potential of which even I wasn’t aware, and I entered my second life as the Bravomobile, or the Chariot of Chark if you will. It’s been months of work since then, and we’ve taken a few extended jaunts, but nothing prepared me for yesterday.
We loaded up and headed west; nothing new with that, as thats the direction we always seem to take. The pavement gave way to gravel at the base of the Quachita National Forest, still not an issue, been there done that, but then dad took a hard right turn.
Chinquapin Mountain? Are you kidding me? That’s some serious terrain, with deep ruts, steep climbs, and rocky drop-offs designed specifically to snap spindly suspensions. Doesn’t he realize that I’m rolling on 13″ tires? And I’m putting out less horsepower than a average motorcycle? And has he never heard the term “osteoporosis”? Old bones get brittle and tend to develop hairline fractures; surely this is NOT a good idea.
Well, not only did I survive, but I Thrived; it turns out that finesse succeeds where raw power may fail. I quickly learned the benefit of slowing and sometimes even stopping that I could properly pick my line through the upcoming tricky sections; no need to bash through the boulders when you can tip toe through the tulips.
We rolled back into the Casa completely covered with dust and dog hair, Charlie sprawled out on the back, no, in the front, well, wherever Charlie chooses to sprawl; you know how she rolls. I began thinking: life with pops was grand, but that was then and this is now. Was the exquisite care I was shown back then preparing me for the more vigorous life it was now apparent I would be leading? I don’t have the answers, but it’s obvious that my life isn’t over, it’s just beginning.
What’s next? I’very heard tell of a recently discovered little jaunt called the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route, or NMBDR for short, and that’s the only short thing about it. It starts at the Mexican border and snakes north 1100 miles across the mountains and deserts until descending into southern Colorado. Who would think that a creaky old girl like me would have any business even considering such a thing? But if you quit dreaming, you quit moving, and if you quit moving, you start rusting, and rust never sleeps.
See you on the trail.
My husband’s and my 1995 Chevy truck recently got discombobulated by a rich fellow in a sporty BMW racing through a redlight. Not only did I lose my old friend, but I also lost the comfort of feeling my husband riding along shotgun with me everywhere I wandered, even though others could no longer see him. In the accident, we were struck so hard by the BMW that the truck and trailer flew up in the air on one side and my granddaughter’s seatbelt latch popped loose, allowing her to fly right out the passenger window. Her brother grabbed her legs and was also jerked part way out the window by her weight. In those split seconds, as I was also hanging down towards the window, with my granddaughter’s body all the way outside the truck between the BMW and the ground, with everything still bouncing, and her terrified eyes looking into mine and her head only inches from striking the pavement, time seemed to freeze for a moment. I jerked both her and her brother back inside the vehicle and into my arms in a tight embrace right before we bounced down on the pavement. Witnesses who saw her fly out ran to the truck to assist us and began to pray with thankfulness and disbelief when they saw that she was inside the truck and safe, when they had seen her fly out and under with their own eyes. Before and after the accident, I was very ill and also had a torn rotator cuff in the shoulder that I used to jerk her back in. I could not even raise my arm to elbow level nor hold a coffee cup without spilling it. Yet, my body had defied the force of gravity and the laws fo physics concerning mass and weight and speed and achieved the impossible. Perhaps God was riding shotgun along with my husband. In any event, I cannot wait until my old friend is resuscitated and returned to me for my travels. Perhaps Pops is enjoying your new adventures right along with you, Miss Ellie…
Keep us posted on the recovery process; does the truck have a name? If not, I have one on mind…
My grandchildren say I am crazy because I pat the dash and speak comfortingly to my vehicles in their times of stress. Doesn’t dad give you words of encouragement, Miss Ellie?
Only in secret… my husband didn’t like me calling her Suzie…(as in Suzie Q..)
I was thinking “Lazarus”
Lol! I certainly hope so… she is in dire straits.
Can you guess what word jumped out at me?!
Never stop dreaming , there’s a LOT more to the life you’ve been dealt. Keep rolling….
Caught that, eh?
Keep on rockin’ and rollin’ Miss Ellie, you’ve got a lot of life to live; and a lot of dreamin’ to do.
Go Ms Ellie Go! Never give up !
What an adventure , when I was a single mom my son and I couldn’t afford much , but we always loved road trips. We’d just start driving down roads we’d never been on. Some roads lead to amazing places, some not, but it was always an adventure to see what was around the next corner. It was also real mother son time. We forged an amazing bond that has not let us down. I highly recommend road trips. They are just like real life, you never know what’s going to be around the next corner. Keep going Miss Ellie, enjoy what ever is down the next road!
Chariot of chark-lol!
Oh, Miss Ellie! I can’t wait to hear accounts of your adventures on the Backcountry Discovery Trail! 🙂 Let’s get rollin’
If you stop moving you die, so keep those wheels a turning.
I love how “all” at the Casa de Whackos look at all of life’s experiences as part of a metamorphosis…as becoming. I love Miss Ellie’s ponderance of her beloved, cushy past life as possibly a necessary precursor for this new life now. Provocative, but comforting ideas. Thanks!
You never cease to amaze me with your outlook on life.
Never greater word spoken!
I am not going to start rusting! Too many more adventures.
This reminds me of My husbands 88 ford ranger that belonged to his daddy that about 5 years ago took its last breath then some kid came by and seen life in the old girl and bought her from us and gave her a new life was sad to see her go she had been around for years and as my husbands dad had passed it was alot of memories for him of fishing with his dad and more.