Even with my 46th birthday tomorrow, I'm thinking of another member of our family that is getting along in years. My black Jeep. As a poor college student, I always wanted a black Jeep Wrangler. As if finding Becky and actually marrying her wasn't miracle enough, our first year of marriage brought us a new bouncing baby Jeep. We bought it in the Summer of 1991. It turns 19 this Summer. That's 120 in Jeep years.
I still drive that Jeep today. Taking it in for a semi-annual oil change reminded me of what is surely impending doom. Everything leaks. The oil leaks onto the street and the coolant leaks into the oil. Brown and frothy oil cannot be good, but it has been that way for many years. Every time I take the top off in the Spring, I wonder if it will be for the last time. I've been wondering that every Spring for about 10 years. It just keeps going.
When I worked for Symantec, I parked in the same spot pretty much for 8 years. The oil slick on that blacktop has now been claimed by Opec! I have a pile of sand in the car port to catch the oil and prevent a gooey oozy mess.
I looked for some recent pictures of my Jeep and couldn't find any. These are my favorites. I used to go 4-wheeling around the Wasatch Mountains, but it has been many many years since I've done that. No more long trips, just 11 miles to and from work and 5 miles to and from The Peaks to play hockey. At 196,000 miles it's tired and old. When I bought it, I said I would drive it till it dies. Qualifying that, I also said I'd drive it as long as my credit card still works. I love my Jeep and it has become part of my identity. Should I rebuild it? Shall I extend its life indefinitely? I don't like the new Jeeps, and they are not this one. I've been eyeballing the Toyota Tacomas lately. Maybe when that last mechanic's estimate comes in, then it will be time.
In the early Spring of '92 while Becky's sister Laura was visiting, we decided to take a quick afternoon jaunt into the mountains of Diamond Fork canyon. Long story short, we had to hike down the mountain at 2:00 am to find someone to pull the Jeep out of a ditch. Laura missed her flight home and we still refer to that episode simply as 'the ordeal'. I can show you the mud from that night sill stuck to the bottom of my ratty old seat covers. True story. Did I mention that Becky was 7 months pregnant at the time?
My girls used to love riding in the Jeep. Now, it's old and icky and usually smells of putrefying hockey gear. Nobody wants to ride in the Jeep anymore. This was taken when the Jeep was 'only' 10 years old.
This was taken in Moab in '94 on a Scout trip to Slick Rock. I was going to follow the group on their bikes. One of the Scouts got sick, so I had to bail and spend the day with him in town.
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