44: driving

My car is getting dangerously close to that little, red E. I am not refilling yet. While running about in my car this morning–I can count on one hand how many times that's happened this summer–I passed gas stations. The massive oil hemorrhage  is starting to catch up to us. The lowest price in town was $2.70.

So far this summer, after driving back from St. Louis in mid-May, I have put $10 in my gas tank. This is partly because I have done absolutely no socializing. This is partly because I plan my errands around trips my family is already making or around weather, so that I can use my bike.

My goal this summer was to rely on my bicycle. I am doing much less cycling than expected, but more than any other season of my life. It's how Chloe and I get to the tennis courts and back, how I pick up my paychecks, how I run the the library and bank.

But there are more constraints than expected. For example: the humidity is averaging 80 percent. I am a news correspondent, interviewing people throughout my community. I cannot arrive at an interview in a soggy Oxford. I'm making it work, though. And I'm learning how to bike in a town that is not used to people on the roads (not that it's much different than college, when three people I know were hit by cars while riding). I'm digressing.

So the low gas consumption has been great–for my thin, thin wallet and for my mileage. I'll put another $10 in on my next trip and hope to finish out the summer with only one more purchase. Ok, so that will be a clump of purchases, for the trip to and from St. Louis in July. I'm so proud of my car and her miles/gallon, her reliability.

I bought my car from my parents when I was 16. I covered its interior with leopard print, which has been removed with the exception of the seat covers. (It was mostly a joke, but also looked great with the red. Why not?) I drove it all over Hell. To and from college on average one weekend a month. To St. Louis. Back to college or home. To Chicago, multiple times in a summer to get myself to France.

Now, I'm nearing the end of my time with her. My sister will be buying the car from me, so that it can carry her around town while she's in high school. I hope she'll keep the leopard seat covers.

I also hope this summer of little driving makes the coming trek to St. Louis less of a strain on her (the car, not my sister). I hope she'll come back ready for another high school experience (again, the car and not my sister).

I'm sad to see her go, sad to see more money go into the gas tank, sad that I slammed the poor Corsica into the side of my too-small garage after hitting an ice patch this last winter. (The old girl was looking pretty good before the white streak on her driver's front quarter panel.)

I am not sad that the next year of my life, from August to August, will include zero (said with a French accent) miles of driving and complete reliance on public transportation. What a transition this summer has been! I look forward to returning to the states, continuing a focus on public transit, biking more and finding a family car (!) that's at least a hybrid.