I can’t talk right now. The tram is coming to pick me up for work here at Glenwood Caverns Adventure Park where I’m cave tour guide.
When people ask me if I like my job, I just smile and say, “Yeah.”
You have to like a commuter car that picks you up under these circumstances.
This the second car I bought for a dollar. The first one was a 1991 Chevy Suburban. That was the car we drove for a 3 week trip to the east coast. The one that had 5 green duffel bags piled on top as we drove through Washington D.C. after 9/11; where you couldn’t drive within 1/2 mile of The Whitehouse, and you could see chain link fences everywhere around the Capitol; and the Tidal Basin was disgusting with litter floating in it.
We were driving the one dollar Suburban through Smokey Mountain National Park when we were stopped by a Park Ranger. Before he let us go, he apologized: “Whenever we see a vehicle like this one, we suspect it of transporting drugs.”
The new one dollar car is a Toyota Camry. All white. With “Detroit Cammo” on it. The auto shoulder harnesses are annoying. The driver side doesn’t work, and the passenger side does. So I keep forgetting the passenger side works, and I get clotheslined all the time.
I love the new one dollar car. One oil change, and we were on our way. I think we put about 4000 miles on the car already.
The best thing about a one dollar car is that you can eat in it while commuting. You can’t do that in our family Suburban.
I just wish the air conditioner worked.
Get up at 5am while it’s still dark out. Put on your work pants and climb into your Subaru. Drive down a dirt road high in the Colorado Rockies and turn right onto the blacktop county road.
Watch for rocks rolling down off of the hillside, deer standing on the road, geese at the edge of the road, ice on the curves, and Marble quarry workers driving upvalley on the wrong side of the road.
When you get to Bogan Flats campground, group site, notice something running up the steep embankment at high speed on a collision course with your car. Step firmly, and without panic on your brakes, hoping that it won’t be a big splat.
As your car deaccelerates to about 3 m.p.h. notice that the animal directly in front of your grill is an adult mountain lion, running for his life.
Because you had not been able to come to a complete stop yet, bump the mountain lion on his keister and watch him stumble, like a football player who almost got tackled, but didn’t quite fall to the ground.
As the lion regains his balance and jets up the hill side into the dark timber, roll your window down and look at the tracks he left in the snow at the edge of the road.
When your heartrate goes back down below 190, put the car in gear and continue your morning commute to work. You just spanked a mountain lion with your Subaru. Good morning from Marble, Colorado.