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Just 3,997 or so to go
May. 13th, 2013 09:37 amAnother day of Musical Cars. Last Friday, we brought Eleanor's truck to the mechanic to replace a leaky power steering line, and they didn't have the part, so it had to go back there today. Eleanor's pretty whipped after a Sunday afternoon spent in a cold wind tending to a grill full of bigass pork ribs. (Yes, it was Mother's Day. Yes, she wanted to do this. Yes, they were scrumptious.) So I decided to repeat a drill from last September: I dropped the truck at the repair place, three miles away, and walked home.
As with the previous trip, I had a backup plan of taking the bus if it suddenly got rainy (or, as yesterday, snowy:P) or if I just lost my personal drive. This time, at least, I knew the name of the route and when the bus would allegedly arrive. Once again, I beat it to my "stop" by a good five minutes just by walking down the street myself.
The route I took both times- Sweet Home south to Sheridan, past Millersport and Harlem and then into our subdivision- isn't the quickest, but the alternate route we take when driving there- Maple over the 290, then the cut-through to Millersport past the Marriott and around Frankhauser (German for "drunken suburban street planner")- is decidedly less pedestrian-friendly. No sidewalks, deadly commuters, and worst of all no coffee en route.
Five minutes and 79 cents later, I had a large coffee handwarmer from Mickey D's a third of the way into the walk. I needed it- it was barely 40F out there. I also had a smile most of the way, because my soundtrack the previous weekend's This American Life, and in particular the story of a 23-year-old east coaster who decided to walk across America. No rides, no prearranged shelter, just stories, and especially answers to his standard question to those he met:
If you could go back in time, what would you tell your 23-year-old self?
At the end of the piece, having reached the Pacific, he gave his pre-walk self his three answers to that question:
You know exactly what to do.
There's no need to be afraid.
Keep walking.
As with the previous trip, I had a backup plan of taking the bus if it suddenly got rainy (or, as yesterday, snowy:P) or if I just lost my personal drive. This time, at least, I knew the name of the route and when the bus would allegedly arrive. Once again, I beat it to my "stop" by a good five minutes just by walking down the street myself.
The route I took both times- Sweet Home south to Sheridan, past Millersport and Harlem and then into our subdivision- isn't the quickest, but the alternate route we take when driving there- Maple over the 290, then the cut-through to Millersport past the Marriott and around Frankhauser (German for "drunken suburban street planner")- is decidedly less pedestrian-friendly. No sidewalks, deadly commuters, and worst of all no coffee en route.
Five minutes and 79 cents later, I had a large coffee handwarmer from Mickey D's a third of the way into the walk. I needed it- it was barely 40F out there. I also had a smile most of the way, because my soundtrack the previous weekend's This American Life, and in particular the story of a 23-year-old east coaster who decided to walk across America. No rides, no prearranged shelter, just stories, and especially answers to his standard question to those he met:
If you could go back in time, what would you tell your 23-year-old self?
At the end of the piece, having reached the Pacific, he gave his pre-walk self his three answers to that question:
You know exactly what to do.
There's no need to be afraid.
Keep walking.