Madness is the only word that can describe driving in the
mountains. My little car, loaded down
with all my possessions, could barely make it up hills. Then on the downhill parts I would squeal and
hit the brakes around all the corners.
The curves were as close to u-turns as possible and the whole experience
reminded me of my first time mountain-biking… (without hitting a tree or having
the brakes fail of course!) There was
one little thing though:
I was going up a particularly tough hill, talking Perry (my
car) through it. “Come on Perry! You can do it! I think you can, I think you can, I think you
can!” Then as we crested the hill Perry
talked back…totally didn’t see that coming!
I heard this alarm going off and words scrolled across my dash, “Oil
Pressure Low. Turn Off Engine Immediately.”
What? I am on a
mountain! I pulled over as soon as I
could and of course there was no cell signal in the area. I assumed low pressure means I should add
oil. But the spare quart of oil was at
the bottom of my trunk under all my stuff.
I had to unpack some of it and climb over the rest to try to get my
fingers on the oil, but I managed.
After filling up and getting back on the road, I found the
nearest gas station (at the top of another big hill). This place was OLD! You had to rotate a lever and then start
pumping. As you fueled the numbers spun
on wheels to tell you how much you were filling. Mountains use A LOT more gas than the beach
did.
The winding roads did lead me to my new studio apartment
which is on a dirt road, rather far from everything else (other than work…its
right near the park). And I will unpack
and start my job this week. I will post
photos as soon as I get things sorted.
For info about my unpacking in the SNOW, go to http://carolineritchey.theworldrace.org/.
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