It’s All About The Ride
One glorious day in 1994, I was overcome by a sudden and reckless desire. I wanted a new car, but it had to be a Chevrolet from Jerry Chambers in Bellingham, Washington. So off I went.
After arriving at the dealership, I briefly chatted with Slick the Salesman who immediately knew what I needed. He proudly directed me to an ugly, black Impala with all its fabulous “old lady” features. This was not what I had in mind so I ditched Slick and searched on my own. Suddenly there on the showroom floor on a rotating platform, neon lights glimmering off its brilliant shine, was the most beautiful car I had ever seen.
It was sleek, red and low to the ground. It was called a Camaro Z28, had a massive V-8 engine and a black, all-electric convertible top. I suddenly experienced an epiphany like no other: I was shamelessly in love with a car for the first time in my life.
No one expected a single mother of three to be interested in a sports car, let alone “a police magnet”. Au contraire, I had always loved sports cars, they just had difficulty fitting three children inside. In fact, in my former life, I had jointly owned a Ford Mustang, a Porsche 924 and a Chevy Corvette. But this gorgeous, red Camaro Z28, I bought on my own: two of my sons were in college, the youngest was in high school and I was devoid of a husband, so space was not an issue. Needless to say I signed the paperwork without a test drive or price haggling and drove off with her before the ink was dry. What a glorious day it was. I dubbed my new treasure, “Rosie”.
Since then and for 20 carefree years, I cherished Rosie. She ran like a champ until that ominous day when I took her into the shop for an oil change. Someone forgot to put the oil cap back on and that single act of stupidity resulted in Rosie blowing her engine. Everyone told me to sell my baby and get another newer, more sensible vehicle. (I had had the car for about 10 years when the incident occurred.) Didn’t they realize I couldn’t do that? Rosie was a member of the family like Cino our dog. Shame on them. So I had her towed into a reputable car mechanic and told him to put in a Corvette engine as replacement for the blown engine currently in Rosie. At that time, a new Corvette engine would have cost me nearly $15000.00 so I opted for a rebuilt around $8000.
After her rebirth and refitting, Rosie continued to serve me well for another 10 years and became a sort of town icon. I had the car for so long that everyone associated Rosie with me. They knew when I was home and when I wasn’t. (That was not always a good thing if you know what I mean.) In the 20 years I owned Rosie, I got stopped 4 times for speeding, a miracle since the Z28 is made for speed. And guess where all but one were given? Yep, in the little burg of Blaine, Washington, population 3000 give or take a few. Those bored policemen seemed to be right there when I gunned it on the ramp out of town or when I was rushing home after a long day at work. ( If the truth be known, I deserved a whole lot more.)
Rosie was my truck when I needed equipment and supplies hauled for my Bed and Breakfast; she kept me safe and warm in the winter and cool in the summer, and her versatile convertible top brought fresh air to my lungs and made me feel alive and special. However the flip side to a big engine and rear wheel drive is the high gas mileage and no snow driving. Of course I had a “let them eat cake” attitude and kept on truckin’ anyway. I had paid the car off early on so the gas expenditures were manageable. As for the snow, well I bummed rides to work when the rare occasion occurred.
My love for Rosie was akin to Roy Rogers and his faithful horse Trigger or Liberace and his piano; we would be together until the end. (Don’t get the hankies out quite yet.) Wild in 2012, my world flipped upside down; I married the man of dreams, sold my Bed and Breakfast of 27 years and home of 32 years in Blaine and moved to Port Angeles, Washington with Rosie in tow and retirement in her horizon.
In November of 2014 a fortuitous situation occurred. My nephew found out I was thinking about selling Rosie and asked if he could keep it in the family by purchasing her. He said he had loved Rosie ever since he first took her for a ride years ago. He was going to bring her to Arizona where she would be truly appreciated–sunshine year round, miles of straight open road, gas prices on the decline and no snow! I gave him a resounding YES and the rest of the story, they say, is history.
Fate had been good to us, Rosie and I.
Dakota’s Bodacious Letter About Rosie
Definition of a Camaro
“A small, vicious animal that eats Mustangs!”
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