300,000
As many of you know Lulu (my Corolla) turned 7 on April 1. My first car. She was brand new when I got her – so new that her off-gassing upholstery burned my eyes as I drove her off the lot. And, as many of you know, I have spent more time with Lulu than any other thing on earth, save my parents.
I once promised Lulu we would see both coasts. She has seen the East Coast – more than she would like. But we will see the West Coast soon. Her first big trip was to Nova Scotia in February 2003 and some guy named Scott rode along. On that trip, she had her first dead battery, her first flat tire, her first trip around a snowy Cabot Trail with all-season tires, and her first ding when some guy named Scott was too lazy to walk and took her downtown. Since that first road trip, we’ve covered more miles, beauty marks, and flat tires than I care to remember (but will, if you ask me).
This year, I promised Lulu that she would roll 300,000km moving me back to Ontario. I made this promise driving back to Cape Breton from the airport this January. I had been inspired by Johanne’s 300,000 portrait with her car, and this was was my New Year’s resolution. She had just over 297,000 on her at the time, and it was a promise that we would get out of Cape Breton soon. Promise breeds hope.
299, 122. For three months, I had been carefully rationing the miles I drive. 1000km to visit Krista before she moved north. 9km to the grocery store. 9km back. 23km to French class. 184km to pick up the mail in Ingonish. 354km for a sanity escape to Sydney in February. Slowly, surely, they added up. Slowly, surely, I realised that we would not be moving back to Ontario when she rolled 300,000.
Or would we? A plan emerged.
I would drive home for an Easter visit – not only would we roll 300,000 on our way back to Ontario, but it would be on her 7th birthday. Perfect. I loaded her up with stuff – things I haven’t been using or things I hoped to not use again in Cape Breton. Winter clothes. Skis. Extra sheets. Technically, this meant we were ‘moving’, even if I’m not sure when the permanent move will take place.
299, 823.
She was close to rolling when I left work on April 1. Paranoid that I would miss the moment, I calculated: 300,000 would roll just past Whycocomaugh on Cape Breton Island. I had visions of a sunny portrait with the Bras D’Or Lakes in the background.
299, 973.
I was past Whycocomaugh and needed to be vigilant. I could not be distracted by the radio or the birds or the traffic.
299, 988.
The up and down glances began. Odometer. Transport truck. Odometer. Bend in the road. Odometer. Harrier in a nearby field. Odometer. Old lady driving ahead. Odometer.
299, 993.
The fluttering began. Look up. Look down. Look up. Look down. Look up. Look down.
299, 997.
The panic sets in. I drive while staring at my odometer.
299, 998.
It was going to be soon. I start to scan ahead – looking for the photo opportunity.
299, 999.
ONE MORE KILOMETRE! One thousand meters! One thousand meters until a resolution kept and goal accomplished! One thousand meters until my new Facebook profile picture. One thousand meters to celebration: 7 years in 300,000.
299, 999.
The most anticipatory kilometre since 100,000.
299, 999.
The anticipation was stretching this distance into the longest kilometre ever!
299, 999.
The time had finally come.
299, 999?
My mind is playing tricks on me – surely we should have rolled 300,000 by now.
299, 999?
I look to the kilometre marker on the side of the highway. 134.
299, 999?
Hmm. Strange. This is a really long thousand metres. Am I losing my touch? Can I no longer estimate distance?
299, 999.
I look at the kilometre marker on the side of the highway. 132.
299, 999.
I stop. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity. All this anticipation. All this build-up. All this hanging of hopes on 300,000. All this on APRIL FOOL’S DAY. All this, but it was so. My car will never age again.
299, 999.
Lulu’s odometer stopped working April 1, 2009 at 299,999km.
Strangely enough, when I thought this longest mile was finally over, it seems it is just beginning. Which is pretty damn funny: I had great hope to move back to Ontario at 300,000km and my car just won’t roll 300,000. The symbolism is so ridiculous it almost hurts. April Fool’s. 7th Birthday. 300,000. Moving home. Hope. Tricksters. Complete numbers. Whole numbers. Holy numbers. Seven. Three. Home. Hope. All of it.
So, for those of you who have been waiting for the 300,000km portrait, it is not coming. At least not today. Those of you wondering why you’re tagged, I tell you this story because you’ve either helped me and Lulu get to 300,000, you’re on the next leg of our journey to see the west coast, or you have had a strange connection with a vehicle and I thought you would understand. Either way, in the great consistency of life’s unpredictability, Lulu will forever be 299,999 and on the road to 300,000. The longest mile is just beginning.
299,999. What a great place to begin.
