The End of an Era

Tonight I finally said goodbye to my driving-love of the last ten years. My Rossinante, a.k.a. African Queenie, a.k.a. 1987 Subaru Wagon.

Two very nice men with mustaches checked her out, drove her around, asked me about all her problems (she has many), and gave me few dollars cash to take her off my hands.

I'll never forget all the beautiful trips we took, the sunsets, the beaches, the forbidden logging roads, the snowy mountain passes, the nights asleep (or not) in the back, the times stuck on the side of the road, the campsites no one else could get to or else no one else dared, the boyfriends that came and went, the endless visits to Les Schwabb, the cases and cases of oil, the new sports we undertook together, rescuing friends and family across icy roads when they were stuck with their two-wheel-drive woosie cars, the adventure and spirit and determined life we led...

...until the introduction of the newer, younger, less scratched-up, shinier, upgraded model.

I feel I've betrayed Rossinante in a way. Will Jared one day go for a newer model when I don't work as well anymore and am kindof an eyesore?

I teared up sitting behind the wheel for the last time to say goodbye. She has seen me through almost my entire single life. She could tell you more about me than probably any human being. (Is it weird that I have such affection for an inanimate object? Well, she' not inanimate. She took me all kinds of wonderful places. But still...)

Oh well. She'll always be remembered with love and fondess in my heart. Goodbye Rossie. Love, Skye