This past week has been a heck of a week filled with a lot of humor and
reality checks, so I’m taking a break from hiking stories to share the tragic
tale of Blue Barry, my 2005 Chevy Cavalier that has traveled over 155,000 miles
with me to almost every corner of the state.
The story of Blue Barry's demise begins with the Northern Lights. Most people in Wisconsin have been well aware that the Northern Lights
have been all aglow across the state this week. Click here to see some examples sent to my work recently.
When I was growing up I used to see the Northern Lights about once every other year at my home on the outskirts of Neenah. Everyone in the neighborhood would stand on their front lawns with mouths
agape staring at the ribbons of green dancing in the night sky. I haven't seen them since I left for college (which was awhile ago).
The most incredible lights I’ve ever seen were on a cold January evening. My friends and I were walking home from a concert at the
local high school. It was only a few blocks away, late at night and less than zero degrees,
when Jason, Mike, Erica and I stopped dead in our tracks. The sky was a giant
tie-dye shirt with ebbs and flows of pulsing colors shimmering pink, yellow,
orange, and green. We were shivering, but none of us could move. I think the
only words spoken were “oh my goodness” in breathless awe. This was before the era of cell
phone cameras so none of us took a photo. But
we didn’t have to. The memory is still
vivid to me. (As life comes full circle for me, this week is also the anniversary of when Jason and Mike were killed in a tragic accident six months after we experienced the great tie-dye in the sky.)
Monday night while I was nestled in my bed, residents all over the
state took phenomenal photos of the Northern Lights weaving across the night sky. The following morning, when the radio informed me that
it was happening again, I quickly told my coworker (and occasional hiking
companion) Danielle that we should try to see them. We agreed to meet around 10:30 p.m. at the
Pheasant Branch Conservancy in Middleton.
In between my home and the Pheasant Branch Conservancy are
two rather large lakes so I had to choose between heading south
along the highway or north along several isolated country roads. I opted to
head north.
Along the way, I hit a deer.
There are so many elements to this particular part of the story that I’m
not really sure where to begin.
First, I never saw the deer coming despite my diligence. I was driving slower than usual and paying
close attention to the dark road. It was only on impact that I saw
the deer and it turned towards me with a look that I can only describe as surprise, pain and
death.
Instead of my typical scream of expletives that fly from my mouth when I’m
startled, I calmly yelled a very disapproving “Hey!”
While there was clearly damage to my car (you know, with my hood being lumpier than usual), my car still drove fine and there was no way I wanted to stop
along a dark narrow-ish road where I could get hit by oncoming traffic.
I continued to the conservancy and met up with Danielle. She was impressed (and perhaps concerned)
about my complete lack of freaking out or crying. The way I saw it, there was nothing I could
do. It was too late at night to call anyone and my car still seemed
drive-able. We looked at the damage via
flashlight and then decided to head for an open space to watch the night sky.
That’s when the shooting star happened. I had never seen a shooting star before. While it was brief, it was simply beautiful the way that shimmering light
arched across the black sky.
For me, that made the trip worth it.
Danielle and I sat in the conservancy for about 45 minutes and never
saw the Northern Lights. However, I did
learn that Late Night Danielle is giddy and
silly and afraid of the dark. It was an entertaining evening and the perfect distraction. I laughed a lot.
My drive home got a little trickier. I wisely chose to take the brightly lit, well-traveled-through-town highway. Along the way various lights began to ding and/or flash on my dashboard. I think that's when it started to sink in that this was Blue Barry's last trip.
Here are some things you should probably know about me and my car.
I've loved my car since the first moment I saw it. I love the color, the size, the maneuverability, and the gas mileage. It fits me and my personality. However, Blue Barry sometimes gives me sass and vice versa. In less than a year of ownership, I sideswiped a pick-up truck on a rainy night and had to have the passenger side fixed (trust me, this is a story in and of itself). Since then I've reversed into large dumpsters, scraped along a concrete column in my work parking garage, had to have the dashboard replaced, removed pieces of the car that I'm not sure belong, and replaced the contraption that holds the muffler in place twice. My car is covered in hail spots, dings, dents, and rust. The tires are terrible in the winter, my rear wheels make a high-pitched squealing noise every time I have to drive in the rain, and the windshield wiper fluid has frozen every. single. winter. since I first purchased it, often making them useless. It's been a journey, but I still love this car.
I've been needing to replace Blue Barry for the past few years, especially since I've invested more money into him than his worth. (Let's face it, if my dad was not a mechanic, Blue Barry would have left me years ago.)
Three weeks ago I learned that my car had a blue book value of about $200. I called my insurance agent and let him know that I didn't think I should pay premiums for collision or comprehensive insurance any more. No matter what I did to my car from here on out the damage would be more than the value of the car. My agent was polite, but firm, and told me that he wasn't sure that was a good idea. "After all," he said "anything can happen, what if you swerve to miss a squirrel and hit a tree, or what if you hit a deer?"
I guffawed. In retrospect, this was the exact moment I sealed my fate.
"Trust me," I said. "I'm not worried about hitting a deer. In my entire life, I've never even been riding in a car that has hit one. The odds are in my favor."
I cringe even now.
As my brother told me on the phone last night in amused disbelief, "Why would you say that?! Honestly, Amy, because of that, you're the one whose responsible for that deer hitting your car."
I'm choosing to believe my Aunt Sue, who very patiently took me car shopping yesterday. She said, "It was time." She reminded me that I've needed a new car for a few years and this deer gave me the push to make it happen. She also let me know it was stupid of me to declare out loud that I had never hit a deer before.
I haven't gotten Blue Barry's replacement, yet. I think this weekend is going to be the weekend I officially put him to rest. In the meantime, the most incredible friends, Jenny and Nick, have been loaning me their car (I think that takes a lot of trust given my track record).
I have to say, that one of my realizations this week has been the absolute support, love, concern and generosity I've received from my friends and family (even if they all agree that I brought this on myself when I spoke to my insurance agent earlier this month...)
My drive home got a little trickier. I wisely chose to take the brightly lit, well-traveled-through-town highway. Along the way various lights began to ding and/or flash on my dashboard. I think that's when it started to sink in that this was Blue Barry's last trip.
Here are some things you should probably know about me and my car.
I've loved my car since the first moment I saw it. I love the color, the size, the maneuverability, and the gas mileage. It fits me and my personality. However, Blue Barry sometimes gives me sass and vice versa. In less than a year of ownership, I sideswiped a pick-up truck on a rainy night and had to have the passenger side fixed (trust me, this is a story in and of itself). Since then I've reversed into large dumpsters, scraped along a concrete column in my work parking garage, had to have the dashboard replaced, removed pieces of the car that I'm not sure belong, and replaced the contraption that holds the muffler in place twice. My car is covered in hail spots, dings, dents, and rust. The tires are terrible in the winter, my rear wheels make a high-pitched squealing noise every time I have to drive in the rain, and the windshield wiper fluid has frozen every. single. winter. since I first purchased it, often making them useless. It's been a journey, but I still love this car.
I've been needing to replace Blue Barry for the past few years, especially since I've invested more money into him than his worth. (Let's face it, if my dad was not a mechanic, Blue Barry would have left me years ago.)
Three weeks ago I learned that my car had a blue book value of about $200. I called my insurance agent and let him know that I didn't think I should pay premiums for collision or comprehensive insurance any more. No matter what I did to my car from here on out the damage would be more than the value of the car. My agent was polite, but firm, and told me that he wasn't sure that was a good idea. "After all," he said "anything can happen, what if you swerve to miss a squirrel and hit a tree, or what if you hit a deer?"
I guffawed. In retrospect, this was the exact moment I sealed my fate.
"Trust me," I said. "I'm not worried about hitting a deer. In my entire life, I've never even been riding in a car that has hit one. The odds are in my favor."
I cringe even now.
As my brother told me on the phone last night in amused disbelief, "Why would you say that?! Honestly, Amy, because of that, you're the one whose responsible for that deer hitting your car."
I'm choosing to believe my Aunt Sue, who very patiently took me car shopping yesterday. She said, "It was time." She reminded me that I've needed a new car for a few years and this deer gave me the push to make it happen. She also let me know it was stupid of me to declare out loud that I had never hit a deer before.
I haven't gotten Blue Barry's replacement, yet. I think this weekend is going to be the weekend I officially put him to rest. In the meantime, the most incredible friends, Jenny and Nick, have been loaning me their car (I think that takes a lot of trust given my track record).
I have to say, that one of my realizations this week has been the absolute support, love, concern and generosity I've received from my friends and family (even if they all agree that I brought this on myself when I spoke to my insurance agent earlier this month...)
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| A Deer in the Headlight |
