For the majority of my life, my favorite car ride ever was probably sitting on the metal backseat of a half-restored Jeep in fifth grade. The red paint was faded, the interior was stripped to the basics, and the car was completely open except for the roll bar. My friend and I bounced and squealed with wind whipping our faces the whole five miles to the restaurant. However, I generally avoided telling the men in my life that this trip was my favorite as they would probably all be horribly offended.
Though I still fondly remember this trip across town as a middle schooler, memories of the In-Law’s red Jeep have overwhelmed the original memory. I particularly remember the first time Cupcake lowered the cloth roof and we hopped in the car to explore the back roads around my house, rather than take up space in the kitchen preparing Christmas dinner. The day was sunny and warm, and as Cupcake found how all the roads connected, I embraced the wind and let my hair fly all over my head. (I did decide that I should probably wear a baseball hat in future. I have not yet tested this theory adequately.) We laughed and analyzed all the houses we could see. I squealed way too much at the cows watching us drive by. It was a nice break from the hectic holidays.
Photo Courtesy of Cupcake
As much as I have a complicated relationship with automotive vehicles, my first memory is, in fact, being strapped in the backseat of my family’s Nissan Pathfinder. I was exactly a week shy of turning 2 years old, and Daddy was driving me to the hospital to meet my brand-new baby brother. Most of my memories from that year involved cars, actually: losing the arm of my baby doll in the Pathfinder and never recovering it, watching Mama sing while she drove, or riding shotgun in my carseat as Daddy flew around tree-lined hills in his black Mitsubishi 3000 GT with the pop-up headlights that were my favorite because they looked like eyes.
But mainly I remember that Pathfinder. I remember the sunlight through the front windshield filtering to the back and my feet swinging over the edge of the seat. I remember Daddy in his purple polyester tracksuit with the college logo embroidered on the front. I remember going uphill, and NOT going the way I thought we should be.
I remember when my baby doll’s arm rolled under the seat. I remember Mama coming to my side of the car and looking all over the floorboard. I remember telling her where it rolled when I lost sight of it. She couldn’t find it.
I remember getting sick in the back seat and Mama pulling over on the side of the highway to clean me up. I remember the State Trooper pulling up behind us and Mama fearing she’d done something wrong. I remember the State Trooper giving me a plastic star to wear for being brave. I remember having to sit on the conveyer belt at the Target checkout to scan the new clothes Mama bought to replace what I’d been wearing.
I remember goldfish and Mama singing. I remember green apple Dum-Dum suckers that Mama would only give me if I wasn’t going to fall asleep. (Somehow putting the sour sugar in my mouth always made me more drowsy.)
I remember bits and pieces of the Pathfinder. But most important was my brother on the other side of the car and Mama driving up front, tossing things back to make sure we were ok.
Car Experiences reflects on my memories of being in cars. I’ll talk about different cars I’ve ridden in and the memories of people I have attached to the cars. I’ll also venture into the realm of my own driving experience and acknowledge my sometimes humorous struggles to move forward. These posts will appear on Thursdays.